If The Fates Allow
by GCatsPjs
Summary: Sometimes Love is More Frightening than Death.
1. Fall to Winter

**December 22nd**

Brennan sat at her desk finishing up a few items before shutting down her computer, she finished the report and printed off the document, pulling it from her printer as she stood up and set it on her desk, signing her name quickly to the bottom. She could feel the stiffness in her neck, and hoped that it was just from spending too much time sitting at her desk. Though, from the scratchy throat she had all day long, and the lingering sinus headache she was fending off, she was very sure that she was coming down with a cold.

She looked up at the clearing of someone's voice in the doorway, and gave a polite smile to her partner. "Hey, Booth."

"Did you have that paperwork done?" He asked, nodding toward the paper on her desk, she looked down and back up at him.

"Uh… yeah, here." She said, handing it over to him. "That's the last thing you needed from me from the Crandall case, right?"

"That's right." He said, taking a step out of the door as he looked over the report. "When are you leaving for…"

"Niger?" She interrupted, watching his eyes meet hers. "Tomorrow afternoon. I'm finally able to take this trip. I've been looking forward to it for far too long. I remember back in…"

"Well, you have a good time, Bones." Booth said, looking up from the paper. She wasn't sure he had even been listening, she gave him a slight smile. "Have a nice Christmas digging up skeletons…" He said, taking a step out of the office, he was already turning toward the door to make his exit.

"Yeah, you too." She said, her brow furrowing as she looked back at her computer. She sat down and carefully turned things down, putting up messages to reroute her e-mail, and voice messages. She closed down the computer and looked up when she thought she heard someone in her doorway again, finding the doorframe empty of any visitors, she sighed as she watched the screen go black, as she grabbed her bag and made a quick exit into the now quiet lab, toward her car.

* * *

**December 23rd - Morning**

Waking up was rarely a problem for Brennan, and waking up wasn't the problem, really. It was staying asleep that had seemed to be the problem, and then it was time to get out of bed. She rolled to her side begrudgingly, letting out a pain filled groan at the sore muscles that screamed at her for moving. She felt tingly, itchy but not able to find the source of the itch as she curled into a ball beneath her blankets. The blankets felt far too warm suddenly, but when she pulled the covers to reveal her skin, the air of the room slammed into her skin like a thousand needles poking her repeatedly.

She groaned under her breath, feeling the stinging needles in her throat as well as she let out a low, growling moan. Slowly, she rolled to the edge of the bed, still wrapped in the confines of her blanket, she felt the heaviness in her chest follow her, as she sat up. Letting her foot touch the floor, she let out a pathetic whimper, feeling the coolness of the floor under her foot, she pulled it back as if it had been burned.

Her eyes blearily looked around the room, her breathing labored as she tried to find the clock, disoriented for a moment, she forgot which side of the bed she had sat up on. She turned her head slowly, feeling the deep stiffness in her neck as she shifted her entire body to see the clock, rubbing her eyes to make it clearer. She finally braved it and put her feet to the floor, feeling the cool concrete beneath her feet, she shifted them to the bedside rug and pulled herself to her feet. Instantly, she felt a wave of dizziness, and a sick feeling in her stomach that was pushing bile and whatever she had eaten for dinner up into her throat. She forced it down as she wobbled on her feet, feeling like a newborn foal, attempting to take its first steps, she found no strength, and sat backwards, landing back on the mattress with a groan.

Just when she thought the pain in her head couldn't get worse, the phone rang. A shrill, screaming ring that made tears develop in the corner of her eyes as she reached for the phone. She lifted the receiver to her ear. "Brennan." She whispered.

"Oh Sweetie! I woke you up!" Angela said on the other end of the line, having no idea how the squeak in her voice was slicing into Brennan's eardrum like a switchblade straight to the brain. "I just wanted to… well, Hodgins and I just wanted to call you up and tell you that we made it to dad's place. The weather is great here in Texas, by the way." She rattled on happily. "Enough spicy foods to keep the little one happy… Anyway. We just wanted to wish you well on your trip, and we hope that you have a nice Christmas… digging up bones or whatever it is you're doing out there in Nigeria… or… Nicaragua…"

"Niger." Brennan managed to croak out, hearing her friend's soft sigh.

"Whatever… you know what I mean. I love you, sweetie…"

"Thanks, Ange." She whispered.

"Are you okay, Bren? You sound like you're not feeling well?" Angela said, slightly alarmed, she listened for her friend's response.

"No, Ange. I'm fine… You just woke me up, that's all. Have a nice Christmas."

"You too, Sweetie."

"Bye." Brennan said, pressing the button on the receiver, she moved to replace it on the charger, but found herself flailing slightly, her coordination off as her head pounded angrily, the pressure in her sinuses almost unbearable. She let the phone drop to the mattress and grunted as she slowly moved to sit up again, trying to maintain some sense of balance as she forced herself to her feet. She let out a whimper, and took her head in her hands, feeling the heat of her fever radiating from her skin, she pushed off the bed and closed her eyes as she tried to maintain her balance.

She took a step, feeling all of her muscles pull and argue with her every step. Slowly she made her way into the bathroom, holding each available surface for support, as she made her way into her bathroom.

* * *

**December 23rd Evening**

Startled awake by the sound of the screaming telephone, Temperance grabbed at the receiver and pressed it against her ear. She mumbled what sounded like a greeting into the line, though she couldn't be too sure at that point if she was even awake.

"Tempe?"

"Dad." She mumbled.

"I thought you were going out of town for Christmas." He said into the line, listening to the crackle of the phone as she shifted in her blankets, he heard her groan and a slight whimper. "Tempe, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Dad." She said with an irritated mutter. "I'm just not feeling well."

"Do you need me to come over? Do you need me to bring you something, some medicine? Soup? Did you miss your flight?"

"Dad, stop." She groaned. "Just stop, okay? I'm fine. Where are you?"

"I'm at your brother's place."

"In North Carolina."

"Yes."

"I'll be fine, Dad." She mumbled. "There will be another trip. It's just a cold."

"Do you need me to call someone?"

"No." She said decisively, her voice almost back to normal. "I'll be fine. If you thought I was gone, why did you call me?"

"I just had a feeling, that's all, sweetheart." He said softly.

"Mmhm…"

"You're sure you're fine?"

"Yes."

"Get some rest." Max replied. "I love you."

"Mmhm…" She mumbled, flicking the off button on the phone as she tipped her head back, crying out in pain from the sudden movement, she felt the heat radiating off of her, as she leaned over and grabbed the thermometer from its resting space on the table beside her. She shoved it into her mouth and waited, looking at the clock, she tried to determine when the last time she took Tylenol was, but she couldn't remember. She pulled the thermometer from her mouth and looked at the temperature of 102 as she frowned at it, noting that it had only risen in temperature since that morning. Swinging her hand with the thermometer to the table, she let it drop, not hearing or caring when the fragile glass thermometer shattered to the floor. After a moment of thought about the medicine, she decided it could wait a little longer, and she grabbed her blanket and cocooned herself in its warm confines, and fell back to sleep once again.

* * *

**December 24th**

Brennan woke with a start, another fever nightmare pulling her from her exhausted sleep as she lie soaked with sweat, shivering as she stared blankly at the Christmas tree across from her, the lights seemed blurry, and nearly melted together in colors as she frowned at it. She thought of her father dragging the tree into her apartment, insisting that she have one, even if she were going to be out of the country for Christmas. Begrudgingly she had gotten one, and decorated it with him, but eventually it made her heart feel a bit warmer knowing that he cared enough to bring a little bit of Christmas spirit into her life.

She shivered again, knowing that it only indicated that her fever had risen even more in the night, and reached for the phone, she dialed the number of the only person she knew was in town. Someone she hoped could get her to a doctor, or the hospital.

"Booth." He grumbled into the line.

"Hey, it's me." She said, her voice was a bit raspy, the wheezing in her chest could only be heard by her.

"Bones, do you have any idea what time it is?" Booth grumbled. "Okay, I get it… your plane landed…in Nicaragua… or whatever, I'm going back to bed."

She paused for a moment tempted to tell him that she hadn't left, the words on the tip of her tongue. "Niger, Booth."

"Good. Good for you…" He grumbled into the line. "Is there any other reason you're calling me at four in the morning on Christmas Eve?"

She could feel tears in her eyes as she tried to express the pain she was in, but couldn't quite say the words. She was panting a bit and held her hand over the receiver. "I'm sorry." She said softly. She pulled her hand. "I'm sorry I woke you up."

"Yeah… it's fine… it's just that Jared and Padme are supposed to be here this morning, they still haven't met Hannah, and Parker is here, so we're having a big Christmas party tonight with some friends of Jared's." Booth rattled off as he sighed. "Call me later if you want, okay? Merry Christmas, Bones." He said, the phone clicking in her ringing ears as the line went dead.

"Yeah." She said, hanging up the phone, she found only the strength to throw it from her hands in frustration as she sat up quickly, suddenly stricken by a dizzy spell that quickly led to a coughing fit, and a flood of tears as she fell to the floor in a fit of sobs.

When she was finally able to recover from the wracking sobs of frustration, she trembled on the floor trying to make sense of her next move. Slowly, she pulled herself onto her knees, and then to her feet as she tried to catch her breath. She found it difficult to breathe without wheezing, her nose crusted with snot as she grabbed a tissue and swiped at it haphazardly as she stood awkwardly against the sofa, allowing it to keep her upright for the time being.

She leaned over to the table and picked up the bottle of Tylenol, shaking it in her hand she found it empty. She let out a guttural groan as she sent the bottle flying across the room, slamming into something on a table somewhere. She trudged with wobbly knees through the house to her bathroom, holding tightly to the door frame for support, she opened the medicine cabinet and searched its contents.

She could feel her body trembling with the ravaging fever, the aches of her muscles were more pronounced, and the soreness in her throat was causing a restriction in it that was making it difficult to breathe without her mouth hanging slightly open. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, her hair stringy and damp from sweat, her face drawn and pale, and her glands were visibly swollen on her neck. She closed her eyes against the reflection, and turned, shuffling her feet down the hallway toward her bedroom, she lifted her cell phone from the table and tried Booth one more time. She paused, waiting for him to answer, though it never rang once, and simply went to voicemail. She threw her phone on the bed and sat down, having no strength to change into jeans, she simply shoved a pair of tennis shoes onto her feet.

She stood up a bit more steadily now, the shoes offering her support that her aching feet could not, and she pulled on a sweater that was sitting beside her bed over the bulky sweatshirt she was already wearing. She shuffled into the kitchen, grabbed her coat and wrapped it around herself, tying the tie haphazardly, she grabbed her purse and dizzily stumbled from her apartment into the cold, unforgiving wind of the DC December.

She thought of taking her car, though imagining herself pushing the snow from its windshield alone made her shiver thoroughly, and she pulled her gloves onto her hands, guarding herself from the whipping wind of the northern wind. The drugstore was simply three blocks away, she told herself, knowing that she had made the trek many times, she trusted that it would be open on Christmas eve, though she obviously didn't think of the early morning hour.

Her feet crunched in the snow with each step, her face pressed into the scarf as the Christmas lights danced off the snow banks, and the street lamps lit her way. She was rounding the corner to the drugstore, seeing its 24 hour lights shining brightly in the distance. She didn't see the man in the dark coat and hat, and she wasn't sure if he had come from in front of her or behind. She didn't hear him or see him, but she felt the violent tug on her purse as she yelped out a plea of mercy. The feet slammed past her as the purse was wrenched from her hands, sending her tumbling, her ankle twisting in the broken pavement of the sidewalk as she fell forward onto the sidewalk. Her weakened state made it impossible to catch herself, as she landed on her side against the sidewalk, her face slamming forcefully into the icy pavement as she saw only black, and the pavement and snow was marked in scarlet.


	2. Father Christmas

**December 25th 5:00 AM**

The lock picking device clicked in the keyhole once, twice, and with the third, Max turned the doorknob of his daughter's apartment door. It wasn't the first time that Max had broken into his daughter's apartment, and though he scolded her internally for not having the type of locks changed to something more impenetrable, he felt a bit relieved that she trusted him enough not to do it again. Up until that moment, he didn't think it would be necessary, but when he called on Christmas Eve, and she didn't answer, and with no answer on Christmas morning, he had a strong sense that something had gone wrong.

Deftly, he moved through the apartment, calling out to her softly as he stepped lightly into the expansive apartment, all of her belongings seemingly intact, it relieved Max to think that it appeared to be calm. He had a moment of relief when the thought passed through his mind that she had called someone to take her in for holiday festivities, even if she wasn't feeling well. However, the fact that she had not answered her house phone or her cell phone worried him. So after much brooding and questioning, Russ finally told him to go and find his sister, and bring her back to his house for some cold and stress relief through the hands of her family, who wanted her near for the holidays.

Max had made the long trek back to DC through the darkness of Christmas Eve, watching the stars as he passed, the cloudy skies seemingly foreboding as he drove down the abandoned roads of the old city in the early Christmas morning hours, his worries increasing with each mile, and each phone call that went unanswered by his daughter.

He was tempted to call Booth, to see if he had talked to Temperance at all in the past two days, but decided instead that he would try to surprise her, bearing a gift of Christmas cookies and chicken soup, he hoped that he could entice her to return to Russ' house for the holidays for rest and recuperation.

He walked through the living room, finding the Christmas tree alight with the lights that he had placed on them, and not another light on in the apartment, he assumed that she was sleeping. Stepping quietly, he observed her blanket, strewn across the couch and with a quick flip on the light switch, his anxiety increased tenfold. Beside the couch on the floor sat the shattered pieces of a broken thermometer, her house phone was on the floor, lying haphazardly against the carpet as if it had been thrown there. His movements suddenly became more frantic, as he moved through the apartment toward her bedroom, calling her name loudly now, he was hopeful when he entered the bedroom and found a lump of blankets on the bed, only to be sorely disappointed when he found them hollow and cold, with no sign of his daughter. He tried to calm himself, thinking that she had simply gone to a friend's house, when he noticed that she had left her cell phone lying on her bed.

Without a second to think about why she would leave it behind, he lifted it from the bed and dialed the last number she had called. He immediately recognized the number, and the time had indicated that it was early the day before, but he waited for the person on the other line to answer. After several rings, he heard a loud, resounding sigh on the other line. "Booth." He grumbled.

"Booth." Max stated, his voice was loud and on alert.

"Max?" Booth said, his voice clearly full of sleep. "What is wrong with you Brennans that you can't call a t a damn decent hour?" He grunted.

"Have you talked to Temperance?"

"She called yesterday, Max. Something about her landing in… wherever she was going… why? She didn't tell you she was going out of the country?"

Max thought for a moment, finding that Booth clearly hadn't talked to her since the day before, and he found it odd that she had told him she had landed in Niger the morning before. He thought about alerting Booth about the situation he had found in the apartment, but thought twice about it, hoping that his worries were unfounded, but knowing deep in his gut that he would not find that to be true.

"Max?" Booth growled into the line. "Max?" He said again, clearly irritated that Max wasn't answering.

"Sorry." Max replied.

"Listen, I don't know why she left without telling you. She does stuff like that sometimes, you know… last second decisions. You know Bones… she doesn't jump to conclusions, but when the chance comes to take off to some country no one has ever heard of at the drop of a hat, she's on the next plane." Booth replied. There was a long pause, and Booth continued. "Why don't you give her a call on her cell phone, or whatever. I am going back to sleep now, my kid is going to be waking me up soon enough to open gifts… why don't you guys buy one another some watches so you stop calling people before the butt crack of dawn, okay?" He muttered into the line. "Bye, Max." Booth said, hanging the phone up quickly, before Max could get a word in edgewise, and the line went dead.

Max's eyes narrowed as he thought of the irritation in Booth's voice, and the lack of caring that he seemed to be displaying, and looked around the room for any clue as to where his daughter would have gone. He stepped to her bedside table, and noticed a bottle across the room, lying against the wall. He walked quickly to it and picked up the empty pain reliever bottle, looking to the store brand name, he remembered that the pharmacy was only a couple of blocks from the apartment. Without another thought, he pocketed the bottle and swiftly made his way from the apartment, in a quick pursuit of what he hoped would be his daughter in route to the store, having simply forgotten her cell phone on her bed in her haste.

* * *

The snow was falling quite steadily, and it had been for quite a while when Max had arrived at his daughter's apartment, so he wasn't surprised that there was no trace of footprints on the sidewalks. That fact, however only made him more nervous though as he walked quickly toward the address of the pharmacy. His eyes were on the snow, looking for any trace of his daughter, the street lights reflecting in the white snow as large flakes fluttered past him to the ground, adding to the white powder. He walked around the corner and saw the lights of the 24 hour pharmacy in the distance, moving quickly to keep the cold from penetrating his jackets, and the snow from sinking into his shoes and wetting his socks.

He stepped to the front doors of the pharmacy and watched the doors slide open as a rush of warm air hit his face, He walked into the pharmacy and directly to a counter, where a woman was stocking batteries behind the counter. "Excuse me," He said softly, getting the woman's attention, she turned slowly, and he set empty pain reliever bottle on the counter. "I'm looking for my daughter, and I think she is a customer of yours. Have you had any customers this morning?"

"Not yet, sir. It's still pretty early. No one has come in here in quite a while, I'd know because of the sensor on the door. It has a small sound to alert me of a customer." She could see the concern in the man's face. "Your daughter lives nearby?"

"A couple of blocks away, its possible she's with a friend. Thank you for your time." Max said softly.

"Well, when you talk to her, just tell her to be careful around here walking when it's dark out. They found a lady yesterday morning just left for dead down the road. Looked like a mugger got her or something. I saw lights and stuff, one of the cops that work the neighborhood told me all about it. She was knocked out, looked like she had been in the snow for a while. May have even had to revive her or something… Don't know if she survived it though." The woman rambled.

"A homeless woman?"

"Not sure. Cop said she seemed pretty well to do."

Max felt his stomach twist. "Any chance you know what hospital they took this woman to?" He asked with a bit of a nervous sigh.

"You don't think the woman was your daughter, do you?" She asked, glancing to the door and back to Max.

"Hospital, ma'am?"

"The university has an emergency unit that most of the ambulances…" She started, but before she could finish her sentence, Max was already on his way out the door, ignoring anything else the woman said. He was completely set on finding out more information on the woman found in the snow on Christmas eve morning.


	3. So This Is Christmas?

Max paced restlessly in the hospital waiting room, and had been doing so since his it had been confirmed that the Jane Doe that had been brought in was indeed his daughter. He stared at the carpeted floor as he walked back and forth, his hand clenching at his side with each step as the scenario worked through his mind. She had called days earlier, and her voice had showed the signs of her sickness. He knew that Angela and Hodgins were out of town for Christmas, and that Cam had taken her daughter to see her family in New York. He knew that she had called Booth on Christmas Eve morning, something both he had mentioned, and was confirmed by her cell phone. He had looked at the status of the phone call however, and noted that it had been brief, only seconds, and not long enough for the conversation Booth had claimed to have occurred. The only other explanation was that she had called from the home phone, and that was where the rage had begun to bubble in his chest.

He looked up just as a man in a white coat walked into the room, his eyes sad and his head tilted in that way that a person's head turns when they're about to give bad news. He held a chart in his hand, and pulled a pen from his pocket as he looked down at the paper. "Are you Mr. Keenan?"

Max glanced to his right and left, thinking for a split second that he should point out that there was no one else in the room, but settled for a simple. "Yes." There was a brief pause. "I am Temperance's father."

"I am Doctor Palmer." He said, shaking Max's hand. "I just want you to know, that she has been taken care of very well here, and I am so relieved that we have a name with the face. It certainly makes things easier." He gave Max a slightly sympathetic smile as he watched the other man's eyes. "I was here yesterday morning when they brought Temperance in." He said, flipping open the folder, he looked to Max and wrote one or two things down, reading from the report, he glanced to Max. "She was brought in via ambulance at about five thirty yesterday morning. She was found face lying on her side, unconscious by a young father who was passing by, who alerted the police. She had no identification on her at the time, so when she arrived at the hospital, she was labeled as a Jane Doe." The doctor spoke, watching Max nod.

The doctor cleared his throat and looked back down at the paper. "Upon arrival of the EMTs she was found unresponsive with considerable swelling to her left ankle and a deep laceration on her forehead near her hairline. It appeared that she had been assaulted in some way and thrown to the ground, which is why we came to believe she had no identification on her person. She was found to have had a fever of 106.4, possibly due to the length of time that she had been in the snow, but possibly it was a prior condition."

"She was sick when I talked to her the night before." Max whispered, listening to the Doctor as he continued to explain.

"The paramedics did what they could to lower it, but were unsuccessful." He said, reading from the paper, he looked up and caught Max's eyes again. He could see that the father was quite upset, so he began to explain the rest of the young woman's condition very slowly and carefully. "Upon arrival at the ER, she suffered a series of…" He paused. "Tonic clonic seizures." He watched Max's eyes widen. "Did Temperance have a history of seizures, is she on medication?"

"No." Max shook his head. "No, as far as I know, she's healthy." He replied.

"It's very possible that the seizures were caused by the trauma that her body was experiencing. Between the high fever and the exposure to the cold, mixed with the mild concussion from her head injury, and the pain involving her ankle injury, she was surely entering shock by the time the paramedics arrived." He watched Max's eyes, and could see the pain deep within them as he spoke. "We were able to control the seizures and fully assess her while trying to reduce the fever, however… after a full examination, we found her to be in a very dangerous situation."

Max simply stared at the doctor for what seemed like minutes, slowly trying to make sense of everything he was saying, trying desperately to imagine his daughter in this kind of situation, but he found it so difficult. "Her ankle?" He whispered.

"Yes, it appears during the assault, she injured her ankle as she fell to the sidewalk. At this point, we're unsure if was sprained or broken, but in her weakened state, we chose not to move her too much. Once she's stable, we'll have ortho look at it." He said softly.

"Can I see her?" Max asked, his eyes begging for permission as he watched the doctor nod his head as he watched this father stand helpless against the news he was giving him, the look of complete fear and sadness was so overt that it just broke his heart. "Please, can I see her?"

The doctor sucked in a slow breath and breathed out slowly. "Yes… yes, I can… come with me." He said, nodding toward the door, Max followed him slowly as he walked down the hallway beside him. Max kept his head down, staring at the floor as he felt his jaw clicking with anger the more he thought about his baby girl's situation.

He was buzzed through the ICU doors, which opened to a hallway with curtains separating the rooms, and the sounds of machines were loud and obvious as he led Max slowly down the hallway toward a series of closed off rooms. "We were unsure if she had contracted anything contagious, since she was a Jane Doe, and we were unsure of her medical history, so we put her in one of the isolation rooms in ICU. She has a nurse with her at all times, though if you'd like a moment or two alone with her, the nurse will step outside." The doctor said as they stepped toward the room. There was a large window, and Max refused to look inside, he needed to see her in the flesh, with no barriers. The door was opened, and as soon as Max looked up and saw the form in the bed, he felt as if all of the air in the room had been violently sucked out.

Lying in the bed, her frame looked smaller, her bed positioned in more of a sitting posture, her eyes were closed, her head tipped to the side. Her skin was pale, almost gray, her lips looked dry and chapped, from what he could see around the machine that was attached to her mouth and nose, a stitched cut on her forehead near her hairline was visibly red, the darkest part of her body. Her hair was damp and pushed back, and she looked almost dead lying there on that bed, fighting to keep alive.

The doctor spoke as he walked into the room, pointing to different monitors as he went, the IV fluids were multiple hanging on the hook above the bed, and tubes and wires screamed out her heart rate, oxygen levels, and breathing. Max tried not to become overwhelmed at it all, and was suddenly brought back to the doctor's voice as he spoke.

"We started her on antibiotics, but so far she's been fairly unresponsive. Sometimes it takes about forty eight hours to see improvement, so we're watching for that. Her fever… is quite a bit higher than we'd like it to be, currently about 105 degrees, and we're giving her as much fever reducer as we can, but we don't want to risk liver damage when she's already so weak. It appears she already had a severe case of bacterial pneumonia before she even stepped out of her home, Mr. Keenan, and it wasn't getting any better. The shock of being exposed to the cold for the period of time of which we assume was nearly an hour, it's very possible that shock is keeping her from fighting." The doctor sighed.

"She's a fighter." Max whispered, looking to the doctor, he so wanted to step forward and touch her hand, he just wanted to see her open her eyes. He needed to hear her tell him that she was 'fine'. "She doesn't ask for help, doctor. She's a stubborn young lady. I could just tell from her phone call the other day that something wasn't right."

"Well, now she's not alone." The doctor said with a supportive smile. "She's gotten this far, and what little progress she's made is just due to the short time she's been in our care. We'll do as much as we can to help her, Mr. Keenan."

"I know you will." He nodded, still staring at her hand, the doctor noticed that he seemed to feel a bit awkward, something that many family members felt when they visited patients.

"You can hold her hand, you can talk to her. I'll tell the nurse to give you a few minutes." He said with a smile. "Do you have any questions?"

"Not right now." He said with a hard swallow. "I'll… if I have some questions, I'll let you know." He said, watching the sleeping woman in the bed, the doctor nodded and quietly left, leaving Max to visit with his daughter for a moment. He stepped forward and took her hand in his, feeling the heat from her fever through her hand and fingers, the sweat on her hand made it soft and smooth as he watched her sleep. "Daddy is here, baby girl." He whispered. "You're not alone for Christmas. Daddy is here."

* * *

Max could hear the commotion on the other side of the door as he stepped up to the apartment. He listened for a moment and heard laughter and other sounds of Christmas as he lifted his daughter's cell phone out of his pocket and glanced at the screen, noting that the only person that had called his daughter had been Angela, nearly an hour earlier. It was nearing six in the evening, dinner time, and he was asked to leave the ICU room for a short time during shift change, so that the nurses could run down the events of the day for their patients, or in Temperance's case, lack of events.

He stared at the number on the apartment door, hearing the laughter of a woman inside, and a man's voice, he felt his jaw clench in anger as he tried to hold it together, picturing his daughter in his mind, lying in that hospital bed. He could picture her lying alone in the snow, cold and unconscious, bleeding from her forehead. He held his fist to the door, and gently knocked, nearly biting his tongue to keep from shouting out for Booth, he knocked a little harder as the voices inside became quieter, and he heard the sound of feet pounding toward the door.

The door swung open, and Max was immediately greeted by a grinning boy, who giggled happily. "Max!" He said with a laugh as he immediately hugged the man at the door. "What are you doing here?" He asked.

"I am looking for your father." He said, as the subject of his conversation walked into view, a look of confusion on his face, that turned to mild irritation at seeing the older man at the door.

"Dad, Max is here!"

"I see that." Booth said as he took his son's shoulders as he pulled him lightly. "Go on and help Hannah set the table."

"But, Dad… Hey Max… I got an awesome chemistry set for Christmas, you should come in and…"

"Parker, inside." Booth said, seeing the look on Max's face, he knew this wasn't a friendly house call. "Now." He said, watching Parker look between the two men, Parker quickly took the hint and ran into the apartment. Booth stepped into the hallway, closing the door behind him as he watched Max step backwards. "What do you want, Max?"

"Where is Temperance?" Max asked, controlling his temper for a moment, he watched Booth shake his head.

"I don't know." Booth said, watching Max suck in a deep breath. "I'm telling you, Max. She went on one of her trips. She called me the other morning, and she said that she landed."

"Did she say those words, Booth?"

"What?"

"What did she say, Booth? What did she say exactly?"

Booth watched Max's eyes, and could see there was a lot of rage hiding behind those eyes, enough to make him want to take a step back, enough to know that he should take a step back. "I… I don't know, it was like four in the morning, Max. She called, said she landed. I don't even know why she called me, I didn't ask her to."

"She's not in Niger, Booth." Max said, watching Booth shake his head.

"Well, I don't know where she is, Max. Maybe she went with Angela or something, okay? We're about to have dinner, and you're kind of interrupting."

Max laughed bitterly, the sound coming off his lips more like a snarl, and it made the hair on the back of Booth's neck stand up. "I'm interrupting your Christmas?" He cleared his throat, he could see in his mind's eye, over and over again, his daughter getting pushed into the snow, crashing to the sidewalk. He could see her face in the hospital room, he could feel the heat radiating off her body, and his chest tightened. "Where is your cell phone?" He asked.

"My cell phone?"

"Yes." Max said. "I want to see what time she called you."

"Max, I don't have time for…" He started to say, but the man stepped forward, and Booth felt trapped against his door. He wasn't sure why, but he was suddenly very intimidated by the man in front of him. "Hang on a second, okay? If it gets you to leave me the hell alone, then I'll get my damn phone." Booth said as he turned and opened the door. "Come in."

Max took a step inside the apartment behind Booth, brought into the hallway of the apartment, he watched Booth walk down the hallway quickly as he headed toward his room. Parker poked his head around the corner, and Max waved, sending Parker down the hallway toward the older man.

"So did you get a lot of presents this year?" Max asked, the anger draining from him as he spoke to the boy.

"Yeah… Bones said when she gets back from Niger, she's taking me to see some really cool exhibits at the Jeffersonian that they're preparing. I think that's going to be the best present, but don't tell dad."

"I won't say a word." Max said with a wink as the boy smiled, he looked to Max as Booth walked around the corner with an irritated scowl, approaching Max with his phone, Parker waved and quickly ran back to help with the table.

"Here." Booth said, handing over the phone. "I don't know why you're bothering me with this stuff, Max. Bones and I don't hang out that much anymore."

"Not since you replaced her." Max said as he stared at the phone, pressing buttons, he refused to look up.

"You know what, I don't have to listen to this." He said, reaching for the phone, Max pulled it away with an angry glare. "I'm not Bones' keeper, okay? I don't have to know where she is every second of every day. She's a grown woman, she can take care of herself." Booth growled.

Max visually stiffened at the man's words, his eyes glancing up to catch his eyes with his as he pointed to the phone. "Ten after four… missed call." Max muttered. "Two after four… huh… you did talk."

"Yes." Booth growled. "We talked! I told you that!"

"And she said she landed?" Max asked.

Booth was visually agitated at this point, and Max could see that he had aroused the attention of the other people in the apartment, seeing another man, and a blonde woman looking down the hallway at the two of them. "What the hell do you want, Max?"

"I want to know how you didn't notice, that when she landed in Niger, she was calling from her home phone!" Max said as he slammed the phone into Booth's hands. "I want to know why there was a point in time that she could call you, and you could tell from the tone of her voice that something was wrong, but Christmas eve morning… when she called you, you dismissed her just like you did to me this morning!" Max shouted. "Didn't you?"

"Get out of my house." Booth growled, watching Max breathe heavily.

"You didn't notice the tone of her voice, you didn't notice where she was calling from, and the time. You didn't even care that she was calling you for help!"

"Bones never calls for help!" He exclaimed.

"Exactly." Max said with a disappointed shake of his head, he saw a slight look of panic appearing on Booth's features, but it was obvious he was trying to keep it hidden. "She was taking care of herself." Max said bitterly as Booth watched him.

"Where is she?" Booth whispered, knowing that Max knew the answer.

"It doesn't matter, Booth. You're not her keeper. You don't need to know where she is every hour of every day. You stay here with your family, you enjoy your Christmas." He said in a sickeningly condescending voice as he opened the door behind him and watched Booth's eyes. "And you know that thing that I _didn't_ do… to Director Kirby? Come within one hundred yards of that hospital room, and you'll find out what else I _won't_ do." He said bitterly as he turned to the people who were down the hallway. "Merry Christmas." He said, closing the door, leaving Booth staring blankly, his stomach suddenly in a state of immediate upheaval.


	4. Above Its Sad And Lowly Plains

Booth stood staring at the door, a look of stunned disbelief on his face as he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Hey?" Jared said, pulling Booth out of his silence, he turned around. "Who was that?"

"I have to go." He said suddenly, abruptly, loudly.

"You have to go? Where do you have to go? We're just about to eat dinner." Jared said, a sarcastic laugh on his lips as he shook his head.

"I have to go, Jared. Can you keep an eye on Parker for me?" Booth said, not looking to anyone else in the room as he slipped his shoes on.

"Seeley?" Jared said as he watched his brother grab his keys and open the door.

"Seeley, what's going on?" Hannah asked as she stepped warily down the hall toward him.

"I don't have time to explain. I have to go." He said, dismissing her immediately. "Jared, please, Can you keep an eye on Parker for me?" Booth asked, stepping out of the door, Jared nodded. "Thanks." He said, closing the door solidly behind him, he took off running down the stairs toward the street.

Once Booth stepped out onto the street, he looked both ways down the road and saw no sign of Max, no sign of anyone. He shivered slightly in the frigid air, the dark sidewalk slick beneath his feet as he watched the steam of his breath rise over his face. He was about to turn toward the car, when he heard the sound of heavy feet hitting the ground, and was just turning around just as a fist found its way squarely in his gut.

The air rushed from his body as he stumbled backwards, leaning sharply into the man who had punched him, as another swing came in his direction. Luckily, he was able to dodge it, but was pushed backwards by the other man. He looked up in pain, now face to face with the man who was pummeling him, as he tried to stand up straight. He immediately recognized the jacket the man was wearing. "What the hell, Max?" Booth exclaimed as suddenly, Max's fist connected with Booth's jaw, sending him stumbling backwards into the snow bank. Before Booth could react, Max had slammed his body full force into Booth's and grabbed his shirt, shoving his face into his.

"What did I tell you?" He spat angrily. "Stay away from her!" He shouted.

"Where is she?" Booth asked, watching Max's reddened face above him, he shook his head angrily.

"You don't get to know that." Max growled.

"Get off of me!" Booth growled, pushing the older man, he watched him stumble back as he caught himself on the slippery sidewalk, breathing heavily as Booth stood up and faced him. "What the hell is going on, Max? Where is Bones?"

"Why do you care?" Max breathed.

"Stop this. Is she okay?" Booth asked, watching the grimace on Max's face. "Max, is she okay?" Booth shouted, he reached his hand up and touched his jaw, hearing it crack. "Max."

"I should kill you." Max growled, walking toward Booth. "I trusted you to take care of her!" He said, pushing Booth with both hands, Booth watched Max's eyes and backed up a little, trying not to slip on the black ice that covered the sidewalk. "I should… push your face in the snow and leave YOU to die!" Max screamed.

The way that Max spoke those words rang oddly in Booth's mind, the way he was speaking was if he was talking about Brennan, and it only succeeded in making his heart race with immediate panic. "Max, what are you talking about? What the hell is going on?"

"My baby girl! Dying on the sidewalk like some homeless wretch, while you sit in your apartment all high and mighty! That's what I'm talking about! You're a worthless son of a…" Max exclaimed, as he suddenly lurched forward and slammed his body fully into Booth's, his fists flying as he pummeled the younger man, his eyes black with anger as he swung hard and angrily at Booth, who tried his best to fend him off, but for the most part, took each and every blow as it came.

Booth didn't care about the pain, he didn't care about the blood sliding down his face as Max slammed his fists angrily into him, sending jolts of pain through his body. "Where is she, Max? Where is she?" He screamed in pain as he rolled around and finally pinned the older man to the ground. "Max, where is she?" He screamed, finally pushing Max down, holding him in the snow. "Tell me, now!"

"She was hanging by a thread." Max growled. "She was hanging by a thin, unraveling thread."

"Max. Tell me where she is!"

"She doesn't want you there." Max said, breathless. "She wouldn't want you there to watch her like this. She's not like that. She's not like that. You don't deserve to see her. You don't deserve to be there for her. Cast her aside like she's worthless. She called you for help!"

"Max." Booth said calmly, though he was anything but calm, before screaming into the man's face. "Where is Bones?" He screamed. "Tell me where Bones is!"

Max stared at him for a moment, his eyes narrow with pure and complete hatred. "Where were you?" He asked. "Where were you when she called you? Why didn't you listen to her? Why didn't you hear her pain?" Max growled, trying to keep his breathing regulated, unable to catch it just yet.

"Is she alive?" Booth said, watching Max's stone expression as he set his jaw. He could feel hot tears filling his eyes as the older man just stared at him angrily, his breath catching quickly as Max just watched him. "Jesus Christ, Max! Tell me she's alive!"

"You never deserved her." Max growled.

"Tell me where she is!" Booth screamed. "Tell me where she is right now! Stop playing these games with me! Tell me!" Booth screamed, when he felt two hands on his shoulders, pulling at him. "Tell me now! Tell me! Where is she, you son of a bitch?"

"Seeley, Jesus!" Jared exclaimed, pulling his brother. "Get off of him! Seeley!"

Booth glared at Max as his brother pulled at him, he held tightly to the older man's jacket. "You're going to tell me!" Booth shouted. "You're going to tell me, you son of a bitch!" Booth shouted.

Jared pulled at Booth until he stood up on his own, reaching his hand out to help Max, Booth slapped his hand. "Don't you touch him." Booth grunted, feeling his brother holding him back as Max carefully stood, spitting to one side.

"What the hell is all of this about?" Jared said, turning his brother away from Max for a second, he reached out and touched the blood on Booth's face. "What the hell happened, man? Where were you going?"

"I had… I have… I have to find Bones."

"Tempe? Why? What is going on? Is she in some kind of trouble?"

"That's what I was trying to get out of…" Booth said, turning toward where Max had been standing just a moment earlier, finding that the older man had taken off. "Goddamned son of a…"

"Seeley?" Jared said sharply, pulling his brother's shoulder. "Who the hell was that guy?"

Booth stared at Jared for a long second, feeling the blood in his mouth from his cut lip, and where he had bitten his cheek in the fight. His stomach was churning from both the punches and from complete and utter anxiety. He just stared at Jared, the words unable to move from his mouth as his lips trembled. The words that Max had spoken, the things he had said and alluded to were just pounding his brain endlessly. His face, tongue, nose hurt, his hands stung with the cold of the snow as he spotted his cell phone in the snow, where it had fallen out of his pocket. He pushed away from Jared, his eyes on the phone as he lifted it up and looked at the screen, pushing several buttons, he looked at the missed call on his phone, ten minutes after four, just as Booth had said. He remembered that second time it rang, he remembered pressing the ignore button, he remembered rolling over and seeing Hannah staring back at him, he remembered telling her he loved her.

"Seeley?" Jared said again. "What the hell is going on? Who was that guy?"

Suddenly, Booth's stomach lurched, twisting violently. "That was Bones' father." He grunted, taking a quick three step away from where he was standing, he stepped into the alleyway, where he leaned over at his waist, and emptied his stomach on the cold, wet sidewalk.


	5. Blue Christmas

Booth was finally able to recover enough to make his way to the apartment door, with Jared right behind him. He stomped up the stairs and stopped, turning around as Jared nearly knocked into him. "Whoa man, slow down. Are you going to tell me what's going on, or what?"

"I don't know what's going on, that's the problem." Booth whispered fiercely. "Max… He… he implied something happened to Bones." He said, nodding toward the door. "I haven't talked to her since yesterday morning."

"I thought she was going on a trip."

"She was, but according to Max, she didn't go… and she's in trouble."

"And he's pissed… at you."

"He won't tell me where she is." Booth growled, the frustration was so evident, it appeared that Booth was on the verge of snapping. His face was red with anger, his eyes were fiery and filled with frustration. "I just… I need some time, okay? Can you keep them occupied? Can you keep an eye on Parker for me? I need to find Bones…" He said, staring into his brother's eyes. He thought there would be an argument, or some kind of roll of his eyes. He expected Jared to flippantly tell him that Brennan could take care of herself, and he half expected Jared to say that, but from the intensity in his eyes, and the fear that was reflected back, he was nearly bowled over by his brother's response.

"Okay." He nodded, a simple nod that spoke volumes. Booth nearly did a double take. "I'll take care of it, okay? Stop wasting time." He whispered quickly as Jared nodded toward the door, and Booth turned and continued up the stairs.

The apartment door opened, and Booth stumbled through, feeling the shiver of the cold on his skin, the pain from his bruised knuckles from scraping against the ice and snow when he had fallen against it during his fight with Max. Stomping down the hallway, he left a trail of dirty water from his shoes as he heard the door close behind him when Jared stepped inside behind him.

"Seeley, come on, what the hell is going on?" Jared said as Booth turned and glared at his brother, happy that he was keeping a façade of not knowing what was going on, Booth played along.

"It's none of your business." He said, lifting his hand to his mouth, he could feel the blood from the cut on his lip, warm on his finger as his tongue darted out to taste the coppery liquid that was seeping from the cut. "It's none of your damn business." He said, turning the corner to see Hannah and Padme staring open mouthed at him as he stood there.

"Seeley, what happened!" Hannah exclaimed as she approached him fast. "Did you get jumped or something? Who was that man that you went after?"

"It's nothing." Booth said, pushing her hand from his face as she tried to look at his lip. "It's nothing. Just… you guys eat."

"Dad! Did Max punch you?" Parker asked as he stepped into the room from the kitchen.

"Max didn't punch me." Booth snapped at Parker, who knew that his father was holding back, but he didn't question his tone. He kept quiet as Booth turned toward Hannah and pushed her away again. "Hannah, I'm fine. I have to get cleaned up. Go eat." He said, turning toward Jared. "Please eat."

"We're not eating without you, Seeley, it's Christmas dinner."

"I'm not hungry." Booth said as he turned from them and walked toward the bedroom quickly, closing the door behind him as he disappeared into the bathroom without another word to his family.

The moment the door closed behind him, he lifted his phone to his ear with Brennan's home phone number ringing out. It rang four solid times before the machine picked up, and with each ring, his stomach wrenched with pain. He was sure that he had gotten everything out of his stomach earlier, but could feel the bile in his throat when he heard her voice on the machine. He hung up and called again, with the same result.

He looked up at his reflection in the mirror, and noted the dark bruise that was beginning to form on his cheek, and the crack in his lip that felt a lot worse than it looked, though the blood was still wet and sticky, and he could taste the blood in his mouth from where he had bitten his cheek on one of Max's punches to his face. His hair was sticking up, and there were streaks of dirt from the dirty snow that had been pushed into his neck and back. He groaned as he reached to the sink, turning the warm water on, he let it run over his hand as he dialed Brennan's cell phone.

He waited for a moment, the ring on the line hopeful for a moment, and his heart began to beat harder when he heard a shuffle on the other line as someone picked up. Immediately, he knew it wasn't Brennan. "Hello?" He said, trying to get the person on the other line to speak.

"You didn't believe me?" Max's voice spat into the line.

"Tell me she is alive, Max." Booth grunted angrily. There was a long pause, the sound of breathing on the other line, as Booth listened carefully. It was obvious that Max was on his way back to Brennan, no matter where she was. "Max. Please."

"She's alive." He said, his voice begrudging, but thought filled, as he obviously couldn't hold onto his anger any longer. He seemed almost relieved to speak those words, as if it weren't true until he had said them to someone. "But stay away." He said softly.

"Tell me where she is." Booth said, hoping he was getting through to the other man, he waited. "Max, tell me."

"You work for the FBI. Figure it out for yourself." He said, hanging the line up quickly, the line went dead before another word could be spoken.

"Goddamn it, Max!" Booth exclaimed loudly, staring at his angry expression in the mirror, he could see the despair in his eyes and it made him pause for a moment.

His moment was interrupted however, by knocking on the bathroom door. "Seeley?" Hannah said from the doorway as Booth watched his jaw set at the sound of her voice.

"I need some time to think, Hannah. Go eat dinner, please."

"Seeley, please tell me what is going on."

"It doesn't concern you." Booth growled. "Just… go." He whispered, his voice sounding like more of a growl as he waited for her to leave.

"I'm not going to just go. Something is going on, and you're acting really, really strange. What happened outside with that man? Who is Max?"

Booth stood up straight, taking a deep breath he turned around toward the door and swung it open. He stared Hannah directly in the eyes, and his breath caught in his throat for a moment. "I need time. I need space. I need you to please, turn off your reporter instincts for a good long while, and let me figure out some things that I need to figure out. Because you standing here talking in my ear is not helping me at all. Please, I need time and space."

She was about to argue, when Jared appeared in the doorway. "Hannah, just give him some space. We don't need Seeley in order to eat." He said with an uneasy smile, trying appear friendly, though he could tell that Booth was getting more and more agitated with each second. Hannah had obviously not seen this side of Booth, and being the strong woman that she was, she was not going to be intimidated by him. "Come on." He said with a friendly smile, accepting the grateful nod from Booth, as Hannah reluctantly took a step back.

She watched Booth for a moment, his eyes stealing away from her for a moment, she felt cheated out of the eye contact as she watched him turn again toward the bathroom. She looked to Jared and watched his eyes for a moment. "What happened?" She whispered to Jared, surprised that all she was able to get out of him was a simple shrug as he walked with her out of the bedroom and back toward the dining room, leaving Booth to himself once again.

Booth closed the door behind him and leaned against the door, pinching his nose with his thumb and forefinger, he took a deep breath, before lifting his phone again to his ear. He dialed a number quickly, waiting for someone to answer. "This is Agent Seeley Booth with the FBI, I need to speak to officer Aaron." He said clearing his throat. "I need all police and EMT reports from the past two days that were called in within a mile radius of a specific address." He waited for a moment. "Thank you, I'll hold." He paused, leaning against the door with all of his weight, he slid down slowly, holding the phone tightly in his grip as he waited patiently and prayed that he'd get some answers very soon for his lingering questions.

He stood staring at his reflection in the mirror, his eyes flickering down to the cut on his lip, and the bruise on his cheek as he held his phone to his ear. His eyes narrowed as he waited on hold for his friend to pick up, running the water in the sink, he pulled out a cloth and began cleaning himself up, allowing Max's words to permeate his brain. He thought about what he had said, the first phone call and the call that he had deliberately missed. He tried to think of exactly what Brennan had told him, and tried to think back to anything that she had said or alluded to, but could come up with nothing. He chastised himself for not realizing that she was calling from her home phone, while at the same time trying to control his anger at her for not just coming out and telling him that she needed help.

He stopped himself at that train of thought, thinking of that second call. He knew that he had been miserable when she had called the first time, and probably not entirely polite. He remembered being standoffish, and possibly rude, though he knew that Brennan would understand, she always understood, if she didn't, she'd call him on it. It was the second phone call that bothered him though, the one that he had ignored. That was the one that she was calling to ask for help, that was the one that he knew now that he needed her, and her call had gone unanswered. It was that phone call that was going to kill him if something irreparable had happened to her.

He was shaken from his reverie by the officer who had answered the phone, and quickly he gave him Brennan's address, asking if there had been any activity within a mile of her residence. He was immediately informed of the 'Jane Doe' who had been found in the snow. He was immediately given the information and nearly became sick as the officer described the scene to him, reading directly from the police report. As he got the rest of the information from the officer, including the hospital that the woman had been brought to, he felt his stomach twisting violently as he hung up the phone, feeling sicker each word. He hung up the phone and sucked in a deep breath, looking at himself in the mirror, he looked down and stared at the phone again, and without another thought, he turned toward the toilet, and emptied his stomach of the bile that had bubbling in his stomach since he had stepped into the room.


	6. The Wrong Words Seem To Rhyme

Recovering after several moments and several rounds of heaving nothing into the toilet bowl, Booth found himself holding the rim of the bowl so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. He finally was able to regain control, breathing deeply again and again. He stared at the water in the toilet bowl as he flushed again, not caring for a moment if the guests in the other room wondered for his well being. After a moment, he sucked in a deep breath and stood up unsteadily. He was shaking quite a bit, some from throwing up, some from fear, some from guilt, as he stared at the door as he took a step forward.

He jiggled the handle from his trembling, and opened the door quickly as he stepped out into the bedroom. He ran his hand over his lips, still tasting the putrid taste from his stomach's contents on his lips as he walked into the hallway toward the dining room, quickly stepping into the room where his family was sitting at the table silently staring at their plates as they ate silently. They heard the loud sound of Booth's feet hitting the ground, and all four turned to him.

"Did you find anything out?" Jared was the first one to speak. The fact that Hannah's attention was now completely on him didn't faze him one bit. He watched his brother as Booth's eyes met his.

"It isn't good. I mean, I don't… I know more now, but I don't know the details." Booth replied. "I have to go." He said.

"I'll keep an eye on Parker." Jared offered up, knowing that his brother was coming apart at the seams.

"Dad, what's going on?" Parker asked quickly, the tension of the room was thick enough for the little boy, and he was getting more confused with each moment he was left out of a conversation. "Dad, is Bones okay?" He asked, his gut telling him that Max's visit wasn't a social one.

Booth stared at his son for a moment, weighing the idea of telling his son versus keeping everyone in the dark just a little longer, long enough for him to find some truth. "Bones is… in the hospital." Booth finally said, listening to the slight gasp from the two women, and his son's eyes widen. He could feel his stomach clench again.

"You know that for certain?" Jared asked. "Did they tell you her condition."

"I don't know much about it. I have to go to the hospital and check on her."

"Seeley, if that was her father, then she has someone to be with her. She doesn't need you there." Hannah said, her eyes filled with concern, though she watched his head snap in her direction.

"I have to go." He said, looking to Parker, he crouched by his son's chair.

"What happened to her?" Parker asked.

"I'm not sure yet, okay? But as soon as I know, I'll call Uncle Jared, okay?"

"Seeley." Hannah said, her voice a bit stronger as she simply received a glare from Booth, and nothing more.

"You'll be the second one to know what's going on with Bones, alright?" He asked as he gave his son a pat on the shoulder and stood up, watching Parker look at him with a concerned expression. "Don't worry about it." He said, taking a step back. "Enjoy your Christmas dinner." He said, glancing to everyone he then turned quickly on his heel and headed for his jacket.

He heard a chair sliding out from the table, and was certain that he knew who was following him, and as he pulled his jacket onto his shoulders, his suspicions were confirmed when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to face Hannah. "Hannah, I'm sorry that Christmas didn't turn out the…"

"Seeley, you can't just rush out of here at the first sign of trouble. She's a big girl, she can handle herself." She said as she watched him pause. "Seeley?"

"I have to go. No excuses, no caveats. I am going right now, and if you don't like it, then we can discuss it later. Now is not an option." He said as he opened the door. "I will call later." He said, glancing down the hallway to see Parker's worried eyes looking back at him. "I will call, Parker." He said as his son nodded anxiously and watched as his father walked out of the door of the apartment without another word.

* * *

Max found his breath as soon as he entered his daughter's room, yet not before, his heart pounding quickly in his chest as he watched the machines that were helping to keep her alive. He listened to her heart rate, and learned from the nurse as he entered that her fever was still very high and had continued to remain that way, and she was still sedated because of this.

He was a bit dirty from his altercation with Booth, and his fists were sore from punching the younger man, the trauma not good for the arthritis that was settling in his knuckles. He flexed his hand and felt the tightness in the muscles of his hand as he watched his daughter sleep for a moment. The nurse had excused herself, stepping behind a curtain to give them some privacy as Max glanced to the large window that was to his right, giving the room full view of the rest of the Intensive Care unit. He grasped his daughter's hand, feeling the heat from her fever as he closed his eyes.

"Your father is a fool, Temperance." He whispered, moving his hand in hers, he simply watched her chest rise and fall. "I did something that I probably shouldn't have done." He whispered. "Something that I should be ashamed of, but I'm not. I wish you could talk to me. I wish you could tell me now what is going on in your life, why you have to be so stubborn." He whispered. "I want to blame Booth for this, I did… but I know in my heart that it isn't his fault. I know in my heart that it isn't yours. It's just… sometimes there are things that happen for a reason, and right now, I wish I knew the reason." He said as he stood up.

"You are a beautiful young lady, Tempe. You're smart, caring, loving… I just wish you could open yourself up a little more. I wish that you would just fight for what you want, baby girl. I need you to fight. You never had a problem in the past with fighting for what you want, this should be no different." He said watching her for another moment. "It's killing me to see you this way." He said, feeling the lump in his throat as he watched her sleep. "It's killing me to see you so broken, so… weak. You need to fight, baby girl… you need to do this for me, for yourself… and as much as it kills me to say it… for Booth. You should have seen the look on his face, when I told him he was wrong about you. You should have seen the passion in his eyes when he begged to know where you were. That man loves you." Max whispered. "I just wish that he didn't need other people to tell him that fact. I wish that he just knew. I know from experience that he has the fight in him for you. I have the bruises to prove it."

He watched over her for a long time, standing over his sleeping daughter as he fought with himself over what he could and couldn't do. He felt guilty for laying the blame on Booth so hard, but in the same thought, he was glad that Booth felt something about all of this. He watched her chest rise and fall and sighed when Temperance's cell phone rang in his pocket. He pulled it from his pocket and took a step back, noting that the nurses weren't looking, he lifted it to his ear. "Hello?"

"I'm sorry, I must have dialed the wrong…" The voice on the other line said as soon as Max replied.

"Are you calling for Temperance?" Max said quickly, before the woman could hang up.

"Yes. Who is this?"

"This is her father." He said softly. "Max Keenan."

Angela paused, unsure of what to say, she could hear the low tone of Max's voice and waited for him to say more, but the pause remained long and awkward. "This is her friend Angela, is she there?"

"She isn't feeling very well, Angela. She didn't end up going to Niger as planned. She is sleeping right now, but as soon as she wakes up, I can have her call you if you'd like."

"I was just calling her to wish her a Merry Christmas." Angela said, her voice still sounding concerned and odd.

"I'll let her know you called, Angela." Max whispered as he waited for a moment.

"Thank you." Angela said softly, as she reluctantly hung up the phone.

Max slipped the phone back into his pocket and watched over his daughter for a little while longer, his eyes traveling to movement out in the ICU. He took a step back and sat down, expecting the nurses to come into the room as he waited, though he was certain from the movement of the person on the other side of the window, that there was intense apprehension.

He wanted to reach out and touch his daughter's hand, but sat back as he watched her breathing carefully, knowing that the man on the other side of the glass was standing stoically with his hand against it, the reflection of a nurse standing beside him was evident, but he kept his gaze on his daughter, ever watchful, forever protective.

* * *

Booth watched Max with his hand on the glass, his eyes were beginning to water a bit, but he refused to allow himself to cry. He watched patiently as Max refused to look at him, though he knew that the old ex con was quite aware of his presence. Brennan was in bad shape, her condition was given to him clearly and concisely along with so many details that Booth didn't understand half of it. He had asked to see her, and knew that Max would be there, so he stopped when he saw her broken body through the glass window of her private room.

"It appeared she was mugged." The nurse whispered, noting that the man beside her was not up for much conversation, and her words were not exactly helpful. "She couldn't fight back though, the pneumonia was pretty far advanced." She whispered. "She's not responding to the antibiotics just yet, and we're keeping her sedated until her temperature falls into a safer bracket." The nurse whispered. "She's got a strong heart, Mr. Booth. Her lungs, despite the pneumonia are strong… we're just waiting for the fever to go down." She whispered. "Would you like to visit with her?"

"No." Booth said softly. "This is as far as I should go."

"As her medical proxy, you are privy to reports on her progress."

"I understand."

Booth watched for several moments, his eyes on the woman in the bed, her form so small and devastated, the tubes and wires connected to her were making his stomach clench. He knew there was nothing more in his stomach to lose, and as Max turned his head, clashing their eyes together, he knew there that there was so much more at stake than he could have ever imagined.


	7. They All Fall Down

Life is precarious, fragile and can most often be compared to a set of dominoes. Each piece black and white, set up on their ends just inches apart as each day goes by. The days pass, and sometimes the dominoes are placed in circular patterns as our moods and experiences change us, sometimes farther apart, and very often closer together, set together one at a time as the world goes on around them, very carefully stabilized on a surface of professional and personal morays.

There are moments in life when the surface that these pieces are placed feel shakier than others, a tremble or movement that is unexpected can shift the dominoes, and the fear of them falling is never far from your mind. The changes of mood, temperament and circumstance cause the foundation of these dominoes to become softer, weaker, less permanent. Then there is that moment, that all encompassing second when something so simple and seemingly non threatening tumbles forward into the balancing chips of black and white. It is that incident that sends everything shattering in succession, until everything is lying before you, broken and piled up in an unforeseeable mess, with an unreachable end as each and every domino falls, colliding into the next, bringing your entire world to a halt.

Booth could hear the gentle clack of the first domino falling as his gaze collided with Max's icy stare. With each passing moment, another resounding clack followed as the black and white crashed down around him, swallowing him whole.

"That is Ms. Brennan's father." The nurse broke his concentration for a split second, and he broke his stare with Max.

"I am familiar with Mr. Keenan." Booth replied in a deep whisper, his eyes moved to the room, and he was surprised to see that Max was no longer sitting in the chair beside the bed, and the door to the room was opening slowly as the older man stood stoically as it closed behind him. Booth cleared his throat, and the nurse could tell by the look on both men's face, that this was to be a private conversation. She stepped away silently, and moved toward Brennan's room, entering it to take the woman's vitals, while her guests conversed on the other side of the glass.

Max took a step toward Booth, his eyes were kinder now, his gait more worn and tired. Booth stood a little straighter, and tried to keep himself from immediately becoming defensive. Booth could see from the man's demeanor immediately that there was an aura of apology that he was trying to bury. "Do you want to see her?"

"I shouldn't." He replied immediately, and though his voice was but a whisper, it was sincere.

"No, you should. She expects you to be here." Max replied. "She loves you."

Booth winced at Max's words, this was not how he had expected his next run in with Max to go. He wanted to speak, but couldn't find the words. He wanted to be upset, but he couldn't find the emotions. The only thing he was capable of doing at this point was observe and calculate, breathe and listen to the sound of his heart pounding in his ears.

"What happened?" Booth finally managed to whisper, noting the anger that flashed in Max's eyes, as it quickly disappeared again. "What… what do you know of what happened, I mean." Booth said softly.

"I called her on the day that she was going to leave for Niger." Max said sincerely, trying his best not to sound bitter. "She said she wasn't feeling well, that she wasn't leaving. She said she was fine, but…"

"Bones is never just fine when she says she is." Booth said, looking up at his fallen partner, hardly recognizable under the mask on her face, the tubes and wires were enough to make him feel nauseous once again.

Max paused for a moment, seeing the nearly disgusted look on Booth's face, he knew that it was a reaction to how he was feeling at that moment, he was very familiar with that feeling. "What did she say to you when she called?"

"I… didn't really give her much of a chance. She called me really, really early, and I wasn't thinking about time zones or anything. I just figured she had landed, I figured that's why she was calling, and I rushed her…" He sucked in a breath as he tried to control his emotions. "I rushed her off the phone. I didn't even notice where she was calling from, you know? I didn't even pay attention, and…"

"You didn't know, Booth."

"Yeah, well I should have figured it out." Booth snapped at Max, lowering his voice when he noticed that he had caught the attention of one of the nurses. "I should have figured it out." He whispered. "I shouldn't have ignored the second call. I shouldn't have let myself…" He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I should have been there for her." He said, staring into Max's eyes, he could see that the older man felt for him, that the anger from earlier had drained from him. "I need to find who did this to her. I want to know who left her for dead…"

"Revenge?" Max asked.

"No." Booth said as he stared at him for a moment. "Though the temptation for revenge seems a bit inviting right now, I'm much more interested in justice. I'm much more interested in redemption, and penance. I'm more interested in keeping her alive, and making her happy for the rest of her life." He glanced to Max and watched him for a moment. "Stay with her, don't let her wake up alone."

"Booth." Max whispered.

"I have to pick up the pieces, Max. It's all falling down around us, I have to stop it before the last piece falls." He said, turning toward the door. "Tell her that I am coming back."

"I will." Max said. "But she already knows that."

"Thanks, Max." Booth said, as he turned and made his way quickly toward the exit, fighting his way through his urge to break down, as he left to find the justice that he felt Brennan deserved.


	8. Silent Nightmare

_The snow crunched under Booth's feet as he walked down the abandoned sidewalk. It was nearly two in the morning and there were no cars, no people, nothing but the eerie glow of the street lights on the newly fallen snow. There was a chill in the air that was so sharp that it stabbed through his jacket violently, making his hair stand on end as he approached an area around a snow bank that had been disturbed. His eyes traveled to the sidewalk, and he noticed the fresh footprints that were pressed into the snow on the sidewalk. _

_His eyes focused on the prints, smaller and more petite than his own, heels dragging slightly as he followed the prints toward the disturbed spot in the snow bank. He could hear the snow crunching under his feet, his breath sending puffs of steam into the air as he noticed the impression of what may have been from a body lying in the snow. His pace increased as he began to jog down the icy sidewalk, coming to a skidding stop at the disturbed area, his eyes following the shape, focusing on the drops of red in the fresh white powder._

_He crouched down in the snow, his hand resting on the drop of red, feeling the cold snow prickling his skin as he noted that it was still wet and sticky. He rubbed the red substance between his fingertips, he could feel his heart beating faster as his mind reeled with fear. _

_Blood._

_He touched another droplet of red, and another, his hand resting in the snow, feeling the cold under his skin as his stomach wrenched violently. He lifted his hand and the impression of where his hand had been settled, was now dark red with blood, his hand covered with the thick, dark substance as he gasped. He moved to stand up and was suddenly knocked hard from behind, sending him tumbling forward._

_He could feel his face slam into the cold sidewalk, the impact sending jolts of pain through his face, tasting the blood on the sidewalk and the fresh, warm blood now in his mouth, its coppery bitterness seeping onto his tongue and down his throat. He tried to call out for help, but found no voice, and his body was unable to move as his assailant jumped on his back with the strength of his knees, shoving into his kidneys as blows were sent down against his head, shoving his face harder and harder into the concrete._

_He fought to roll over, finally able to as his assailant tumbled sideways, jumping up, the man wearing a black ski cap then jumped, sending the full force of his knee onto Booth's chest, knocking the wind out of him as the man's fists pummeled him again and again. He tried to move, feeling the pressure of his nose crunching with each punch, his hands pinned to his side, the air sucked from his lungs as the man atop him crushed his chest._

_He opened his mouth to scream, and his mouth was covered by a dirty hand, and though he could still feel the pain of the constant beating, he could feel his body relaxing. The hand on his mouth and nose kept him from taking a breath, and quickly he began to fade into darkness. His body fell limp as the weight lifted from his chest, and his struggling ceased._

* * *

Max held his daughter's hand securely as her struggling ceased, watching as the nurse took a step back, the syringe that had been filled with sedative now empty. She looked to the older man, his eyes filled with a silent desperation as she watched his focus move back to the sleeping woman. There were no words of consolation for the father at his daughter's bedside, and the nurse knew that there was nothing she could say to stop his worries. She settled her hand on his and watched him look up at her. "Thank you." Max whispered.

"If you need anything more, Mr. Keenan, please let me know." She said softly, as she quietly stepped out of the room with Brennan's chart, glancing to the monitors before closing the door behind her.

* * *

A gentle snow fell around him, large snowflakes fluttering to the ground as Booth stopped and stared down the sidewalk toward the 24 hour pharmacy. He stopped, staring down at the cleared sidewalk as he stopped, looking around for an indication that there was anyone out at this hour of the morning. He knew that his search would be in vain this morning, hoping to catch a person who was willing to leave a defenseless woman lying in the snow hurt and sick was a stretch of his imagination, but he had to at least try.

He pressed his back against the building he was near, the cold biting through his jacket, his sweater, down to his very bones. He waited with his hands in his pockets, his eyes moving periodically to the area on the sidewalk where the snow was moved. It was obvious to him that this was where they had found his partner, lying in the cold, freezing, broken, and helpless. It was obvious that this was where he had to stop, his mind and twisting gut not allowing him to take another step.

He bit his lip and pulled his hands from his pockets, glancing down at the time on the screen, he was surprised by how quickly that the evening was going. He was surprised at how quickly dawn was approaching, and it occurred to him that he hadn't alerted his brother to Brennan's condition.

He slipped the phone back into his pocket, knowing that he couldn't make that call just yet. His eyes closed as he shivered, his teeth chattering lightly and his toes burning in pain from the slush that had seeped through the shoes, through his socks, to his skin. He felt his stomach twist as he raised his shoulders, trying to stay warm, he reminded himself again and again that this is what Brennan felt, this was the cold that she had to feel, this was the torture that she had to bear, and this was alone that she felt. He heard a noise down the street and snapped his head in that direction, noting that it was just a car driving over a loose sewer grate, his eyes moved back toward that disturbed snow bank.

He pushed himself off the wall, taking a step down the sidewalk, he wished that he could stop himself, but knew that it wouldn't happen. Once he had that forward momentum, there was no stopping, listening to the sound of his feet on the ground, he watched his step as he nearly tripped over a break in the sidewalk. His toe smacked the front of his shoe, the frozen digit sending a shot of pain up his leg as Booth swore to himself softly, and gathered himself as he stopped just as he reached an impression in the snow. He closed his eyes, envisioning the scene of his partner lying in the snow, her body crumpled and broken, with blood speckling the white powder. He reached his hand down, pressing it into the snow as he felt the harsh sting of the frozen water against his skin, closing his eyes as he crouched, trying to control his rapidly beating heart and clenching stomach. He opened his eyes as he lifted his hand, clenching it in a tight fist, he also clenched his jaw as he stared at the impression of his hand in the snow, pure and white and obvious against the dark underscore of his own black emotions.


	9. Surrounded

Booth got to his feet and stood over the disturbed area in the snow. His mind was having its way with him, spinning the thought of Brennan lying in the snow frozen and alone on repeat as he flexed his now wet and cold hand, trying in vain to warm it. He stared at the sidewalk as he began to walk, watching his feet hit the sidewalk with each step as he silently walked toward a destination that he didn't realize was intended.

Cold and thoughtful, he found himself standing outside Brennan's building, a shiver of cold and uncertainty shuddered through his body as he approached the building without thought of anything but to surround himself with his partner. He then stepped to her building without a second thought, climbed the steps and made his way to her apartment.

He almost knocked at the familiar door, forgetting for just a split second in his exhaustion, fear, and guilt that she wasn't there. He pulled his keys from his pocket and quickly unlatched the door, stepping inside, he immediately stopped as he closed the door behind him. The apartment was warm, the heat seemingly higher than usual, and the lights on the Christmas tree were still sparkling brightly. There was stillness in the room that was almost awkward, knowing that he wouldn't be hearing Brennan's voice in just a moment, or see her face come around the corner was enough to make him instantly uncomfortable. His eyes moved around the apartment, noting that it was as if time had stopped. Her blanket was on the couch, rumpled and moved, tissues littered the floor.

He stepped farther into the apartment and stopped at her thermostat, pushing the button to lower the temperature, he then turned around and assessed her apartment. He breathed in the familiar scent as he walked around the couch, picking up tissues and folding the blanket on the couch as he rearranged things and cleaned the bits of broken glass from the thermometer from the floor. He replaced her phone in the charger, and carefully lifted the glasses from the water and juice that she had been drinking and brought them to the kitchen, where he quietly began washing them. His hands were wet from the soapy water as he lifted the dish towel from its place beside her sink, letting his hands sink into the soft material, he was surrounded by her scent, and it was almost disorienting for him.

He thought he heard a sound and turned his head to see that it was obviously all in his mind, though the lights of the Christmas tree caught his eye and he walked slowly toward the sparkling spruce. His eyes traveled around to the ornaments that were on it, photos of her nieces and small trinkets from places she had visited. There was a crystal dolphin ornament, a gift from him from a couple of years earlier, and his fingers traveled to it as he felt his stomach knot once again. He wished in that moment that he could make the pain in his heart disappear, but touching the soft smooth crystal ornament only intensified the feeling. His thumb rolled down the ornament as he watched the lights sparkle through it, illuminating it just so, that it caught his complete attention.

The loud chime from the clock on the wall announced the time, and his eyes flickered quickly to ensure that it was correct, he swallowed hard when he realized the time and pulled his phone from his pocket, quickly dialing a number. His other hand remained on the ornament, his thumb rubbing rhythmically down the smooth crystal shape. He waited for a moment, and heard his brother's voice, clear over the line.

"Seeley?"

"Hey." Booth managed to mutter out as his eyes focused on the ornament.

"Is Tempe alright?"

"She's alive." He sucked in a breath. "She's very sick."

"What happened?" Jared asked.

"She went to the store to get some medicine, and she was already pretty sick." He said, not realizing how tightly he was holding the ornament until the sharp fin pressed into his skin, he loosened his grip. "Some… asshole mugged her and left her for dead."

"Seeley." Jared whispered, because any other words were left in the wind by the shock of his brother's words. "You're staying there the night?" He asked, though his words were more of a statement, a confirmation.

"Yes." Booth said, his eyes focused on the ornament again. "Tell Parker that Bones will be alright."

"What did you want me to tell…?"

"Tell her that I will call tomorrow." He said with a resounding sigh. "I should go." He said, knowing that if he stayed on the line any longer, that he couldn't guarantee that his resolve would stay intact. "I'll call again tomorrow. Are you okay with Parker? I can have Rebecca…"

"I'm alright with Parker, Seeley. I'll give him the message."

"Thanks, Jared." Booth whispered.

"No problem." Jared said, hanging up the phone as he heard his brother's broken voice, knowing that he was struggling to keep himself together. Jared turned the phone off and looked across at the woman stepping from the hallway.

"Was that Seeley?" Hannah asked, the sleep in her eyes was obvious, and Jared didn't know how she could sleep under the circumstances, but she had been.

Then he heard the sound of feet stepping around the hallway, nearly pushing past Hannah, an exhausted looking Parker. "Was that Dad?" He asked.

"Yeah, it was your dad." Jared said as Parker ran over to the couch and flopped next to his uncle.

"Is Bones okay?"

Jared glanced to Hannah and to his nephew. "He said she'll be alright. He wants to stay there and make sure."

"Stay there and make sure?" Hannah said softly. "Why doesn't he come home for some decent sleep?"

"You really think he's going to be sleeping tonight?" Jared asked, his laugh nearly sarcastic as he put his arm around his nephew.

"He should be here with his family." She said softly. "It's Christmas."

"Bones is our family." Parker said almost defensively.

* * *

Booth let his phone slip from his hand into his pocket, and his other hand slipped from the ornament as his eyes traveled to the inside of the tree, where nestled in the branches sat a simple box, decorated with colorful paper. Curiosity got the better of him, and his hands slipped through the branches as he pulled the box from its hidden spot, and his eyes flicked to the small card sitting on the top.

"To Booth." He read the tag. "Always Partners, Love Bones."

His heart beat faster at the words on the card, his chest hurting this time as his finger rubbed over the words to feel the careful indentation of the pen along her swirling letters. He felt slightly dizzy, stepping back to the couch as he held the package in his hands and sat down carefully. His eyes focused on the box, on the card, on the ribbon, the words. He lay back on the couch as he tried to calm himself, wondering quietly what could be in that box, he closed his eyes with his fingers locked around the package, trying to rest, trying to calm, trying to breathe.

The next thing he remembered was the sound of his phone screaming from his pocket, his body jolting upright as he pulled his phone from his pocket. The bright light of the morning sun was slamming into his eyes from the open windows, and he heard Max's voice on the other end of the line.

"Get here now."

"I'll be right there." Booth said, needing no further explanation, as he shoved his phone into his pocket and charged from the apartment toward the car, without thought of anything else but Temperance Brennan.


	10. Blood and Snow

The air burned with each and every breath, short, shallow, and fast. It felt like a thousands of pins sliding through the tender flesh of her lungs. Unfamiliar sounds surrounded her, loud, irritating sounds that battered her mind relentlessly. She wanted to make them stop, she wanted silence and peace but couldn't find the strength to request it, and was far too out of it to even know what was bothering her. The room was cloudy and unclear, especially around the edges, and the light in the room was far too bright to discern night from day, or even where she was.

She felt confused and lost, traveling her own mind for what felt like miles only to end up in the same place with the same conclusions, battling the same demons, fighting the same battles. Tired and worn, she could feel her body again, heavy with exhaustion, heavy with fluid, heavy with the weight of the drugs she had been given and the blankets that covered her. She was cold and warm at the same time, her body fighting for the correct temperature as her fever ravaged her body. She could feel the weight of her lungs, the heavy feeling in her chest that made her feel like she was drowning as she lay there, while the truth was the medication was finally working.

Very slowly she became aware of some things that were familiar, yet her mind was so focused on remembering who she was, that it forgot to wonder how she had gotten there. She heard a voice, felt a hand on hers, and tried to focus on it, tried to focus on their words, their touch, the sound of the voice and not the sound of the machines. She tried to focus on the break in the fog and not the fog itself as she slowly opened her eyes. Unfocused and blurry she could see a face, hear a voice. She followed the voice and focused on the person's lips, trying to rid her mind of the fog so that she could focus on the words. Her name, her real name, whispered again and again as her eyes blinked heavily.

Temperance.

Again, and again it was whispered, her eyes heavily blinking as she tried to breath deeper, but found it far too painful. Her name again was whispered from the man above her, and she tried to pull the clouds from her vision again, blinking at the man above her whispering her name. She closed her eyes tightly, and with the light through her eyelids she saw flashes of light, white, snow. She saw blood, felt the pain on her chest and heard the sound of snow crunching under feet in her mind. She could hear the pounding of feet, or perhaps her heart, but the same sound smacking loudly on pavement, or against her chest. It was unclear until she heard the voice again, recognizing it as her father's she could feel panic rising in her chest.

Where was Booth?

It was the first clear thought in her mind, that she was lying in this bed broken and drugged, and Booth was not the one above her, he was not the one calling to her. The splash of blood jumped into her mind, and she heard a gunshot in her mind, or perhaps it was the sound of something else, a pen dropping? A car backfiring? No, a gunshot. It was a gunshot and blood.

Snow.

Blood and snow.

Booth was walking in the snow, and was shot, was attacked? He was thrown to the ground. No gun, no shot.

Beaten. Booth was beaten. If he wasn't, he'd be here.

She could feel and hear her heart in her chest, pounding louder and louder, or maybe that was the sound of pounding feet?

Her eyes opened wide, a gasp as she found herself automatically trying to sit up. "No!" She shouted, her eyes focused on the fear in her father's eyes. "No!"

"Tempe." He said, shocked that she went from groggy to grabbing him with her fists, a blind and vengeful fear in her eyes. "Tempe, calm down."

"Where is he?" She said, her lungs burning with each breath, her voice hardly above a screaming whisper as she suddenly began to cough violently. "Tell!" she exclaimed, her voice cracking to nothing but air. "Tell me!" She continued to cough, leaning over the bed, Max held her as he tried to hold her to the bed, wires and tubes pulling from her as she tried desperately to climb from the bed, or fall from the bed, something, anything. Her coughing continued angrily as monitors began to scream, and she continued to struggle against the restraints of the machines connected to her. She felt an intense pain in her injured foot, and tears came to her eyes as she struggled despite the pain, trying to climb from the bed.

"Tempe, you have to lie down!" Max exclaimed as the nurse entered the room and frantically assisted lying her down, but she continued to struggle.

"What is she saying?" The nurse asked, seeing the desperate look in the woman's eyes as her mouth opened and air was expelled as Brennan tried desperately to tell them what was wrong. Her eyes were wild with fear, and Max knew.

"Baby, Booth is okay." He said, instantly feeling the tension in her body start to relax. "Temperance. Booth is on his way." He said, watching her stop and stare at him with blind eyes. "He's on his way." Max said as the nurse put a mask on her face, ordering her to breathe into it, she kept her eyes on Max, her hands clamped onto his arm as he nodded his head and whispered to her. "He's on his way."

After a moment or two, her exhaustion got the better of her, and she relaxed her hand, lying her back onto the inclined bed, she kept her eyes on her father's as she tried desperately to focus on him, finding herself fading in and out. The nurse was whispering to her as she got her to breathe again, calming her down as she lay back and focused on her father, fighting desperately to stay awake, while her mind begged her to shut itself off and go back to sleep.

She didn't know if it was sleep or not, but her eyes were closed. She didn't know how long they had been closed, but she heard his voice before she saw him. She felt his hand in hers before she saw him. She could feel his closeness before she saw him.

"Bones?"

Her eyes opened and she could barely see him through the cloud of sleep. Her lips moved as she tried to speak, but could find no words. Focus was dim, but she could see fear in his eyes, as he looked up at someone.

"Between the breathing treatments and the pneumonia, inflammation in the trachea has caused a strain on her vocal cords." The nurse explained, sending Brennan's head flopping in her direction. She tried to focus on the woman, but found that she couldn't, or didn't care to and her head turned to her other side, where Booth slowly came into focus.

Her eyes focused on his face, the darker bruises from his fight from Max evident immediately as she let out a painful whimper. "Don't try to talk, Bones." He whispered. His hands in hers were warm and soft, and he involuntarily lifted her hand to his lips, dropping a tender kiss on her knuckle he kept his eyes focused on hers, and watched as her eyes traveled to his mouth. Her thumb moved slowly, catching his lip with the tip, it slowly slid across his cracked lip, sending a small shot of pain through his mouth. He watched her brow knit as her own lip trembled, her focus on the small split in his skin as she tried to ask with her eyes what had happened.

"After all of this, and you're wondering what happened to me?" He asked her tenderly. He lifted his hand to her brow, tenderly sliding the hair on her forehead to the side as he rested his hand with his thumb at her temple. His eyes traveled to hers, and he shook his head just slightly. "I deserve everything I get and more. Don't waste your energy feeling sorry for me." He said, watching a tear escape her eye, his heart ached for her, as he lean down gently and kissed her cheek. "Just get better." He said softly. "Just keep getting better." He whispered, watching her eyes flutter close, as the grip on his hand became just a bit tighter, before loosening once more as she drifted back to sleep.


	11. Expect Unexpected Expectations

Booth felt the cold water splashing his face and looked up at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes were showing his exhaustion, and the rings beneath them were in no way helping him to defy that truth. He let his fingers trail over his skin, the outline of the bruise on his cheek, and the cut on his lip as he sucked in a deep breath and splashed more water on his face. He tried to feel refreshed in spite of his obvious instability, and tried to focus on the water dripping down his face as he reached blindly for a paper towel. He pulled one down from the dispenser and opened his eyes, catching the gaze of Max staring back at him. "Didn't hear you come in." Booth muttered.

"Yeah." Max replied, unsure of what to say to the other man, he walked up to the sink and also splashed water on his face. "She woke up." Max said, his voice proud and happy, though with a heavy sadness attached.

"Yeah." Booth said, rubbing his face with the paper towel, he could feel the scratchy paper against his skin, his eyes turning toward Max as he looked back up at his own reflection. "She is still very sick." Booth said, staring into his own eyes as he watched the cut on his lip.

"I'm…" Max paused for a second, watching the younger man stare intensely at himself. "I'm sorry I roughed you up earlier."

"I deserved it." Booth said, turning, before he caught Max's eyes in his, he threw the paper towel into the trash can. "I deserve more." He said, turning around. "You were right. She was calling me for help, and I ignored her."

"You didn't know, Booth."

"I should have known." Booth snapped in an angry whisper. "I always used to know. My mind is just… so… wrapped up in… other things, that I let this one slip, and look where it landed her!" He exclaimed.

"Booth, you're not responsible for her." He said, reaching for his arm, he touched his shoulder. "She's not your responsibility."

"She's my friend." Booth said angrily. "More importantly, she trusted me to be there for her, and I wasn't. Now… she's lying there in that bed, confused, hurting… and there's not a damn thing I can do about it. I don't even think she remembers what happened."

"I think she was more concerned about whether or not you were involved in something." Max replied. "She has been having nightmares lately, she was pretty insistent that you get here, Booth. She didn't calm down until I told her that you were on your way. Where were you?"

"I was at her place." Booth admitted softly. "I just… I needed to be near her, and I couldn't… watch her like that, Max. She was so hurt, and she had you, she didn't need me last night."

"She still needs you, Booth. Despite whatever happened between the two of you. She still needs to know you're here."

"I'm here, now." Booth said softly. "I'm not going anywhere." Max watched the younger man as he stared intensely at him, their eyes focused tightly on each other. "I'm going to go back and sit with Bones." He said quickly, as he turned and walked out of the bathroom, leaving Max standing in his wake.

Max watched the door close behind the younger man, concerned about his guilt and how it was eating away at him. His attention was instantly caught by the sound of buzzing from the phone sitting on the back of the sink.

In his haste, Booth had forgotten his phone sitting on the back of the sink, and Max lifted it to his ear with a gentle pause. "Booth's phone." Max said, listening to the pause.

"Seeley?"

"Sorry, dear, but Booth left his phone in the restroom, this is Max Keenan, Tempe's father." He said softly, hearing the apprehension in the voice of the woman on the other end of the line.

"Oh." She said softly. "I was… looking for Seeley." She stated the obvious, not knowing what else to say, there was silence on the line once again.

Max cleared his throat, weighing in his mind whether to be blunt or dismissive, and instead decided with honesty. "Booth is with Tempe right now." Max stated, his eyes catching his own gaze as he felt bad for the woman on the line.

Hannah paused, but spoke, her voice a bit more confident, and Max was trying to determine if she was trying to hide her disappointment, or if she was always as brave as she was trying to sound. "I brought him a change of clothes. I also wanted to check on Temperance's status."

"Temperance is doing better." Max replied. "It was looking pretty bad there for a while, but she's woken up a couple of times, her fever is down." There was another pause. "Would you like to see her?"

"No." Hannah replied a bit too quickly. "I…I mean I don't want to disturb her, and I don't need to see her, I just wanted to bring Seeley a change of clothes and check on her. She and Seeley are very close, and he was really shaken by it all last night."

While she spoke, Max was making his way down to the lobby, catching sight of the blonde woman holding a small bag of clothes and a phone to her ear, he approached her and held his hand out as he put the phone down. "Hannah Burley?" Max said, as he watched her spin around and glance at the phone, noting that it had been hung up.

"Uh, yes." She said, a fake smile plastering across her face as she shook Max's hand.

"Max Keenan." He said softly. "You can come up and see Tempe if you'd like. She'd like to know that there are people out there wishing her well."

"I actually… have to get to work. I was working on a story, and it has to get finished up today. The holidays have kind of messed things up, and I was just kind of hoping I'd get a chance to see Seeley before I left on another assignment." She babbled as she swung the bag in her hands to Max. "These are a change of clothes for Seeley." She said with a smile, a genuine smile. "I do hope that Temperance is feeling better."

"I will tell her that you stopped to see her." Max said softly.

"Oh…" She said with a smile as she pulled out a card from her purse. "I picked this up for her on the way over, just a little something to let her know that I wish her well." She smiled a tight smile as Max took the card and nodded, holding the bag in his hands.

"I can go get Booth, if you'd like." He replied. "I can call up to the room."

"No, no… it's fine, just tell him I was here, and that maybe we can meet for lunch or something. He's probably tired after being here at the hospital all night long, probably didn't sleep at all."

Max nodded, not saying anything about Booth's whereabouts the night before. "It was nice to finally meet you, Hannah."

"It was nice to officially meet you too, Mr. Keenan." She smiled that tight fake smile again as she took a step back. "Again, I hope that Temperance continues to feel better." She said, as she turned and quickly made her way from the hospital.

Max watched her for a moment, disappearing through the sliding glass doors, he took the elevator to ICU, the nurses having now recognized him, he was allowed into the secured area of the hospital, and stepped toward his daughter's room.

He watched Booth at her bedside, her hands limply in his as he leaned forward and kissed it tenderly, whispering, as she lay in almost a sitting position, her eyes closed in sleep as Booth watched her sleep. Booth looked up as Max stepped into the room, and immediately recognized the bag. "Hannah stopped by and brought you a change of clothes." Max whispered. "You forgot this in the restroom." He said, handing over the cell phone, Booth looked relieved and quickly pocketed the device.

"Thanks." He said softly, his eyes moving to Brennan and then back to Max. "You talked to Hannah?"

"Yes." Max nodded. "She brought this for Tempe." He said, handing over the white envelope, Booth smiled sadly. "She seems like a nice woman."

"Yeah." Booth smiled as he took the card. He watched Max set the bag beside the chair.

"She seemed very concerned about you, Booth."

"I left in quite a rush." Booth admitted. "Between your visit and my departure… I am sure that she is a bit confused."

"I'm sure that my visit really didn't help that." Max chuckled softly. "You don't have to stay here, Booth."

"Yes I do." Booth said, watching Max his eyebrows were lowered in a gaze of concern. "She needs me to be here."

There was a soft whisper at that moment, a sound from the bed that wasn't from a machine, or from a dream. It was clear enough of a whisper to be heard, but it was three words that Booth didn't expect to hear. He turned his face toward his partner, her blue eyes staring back at him as he watched her swallow hard. "Go home, Booth." She whispered in a cracked in broken voice, with a sincerity that was enough to shatter his heart right then and there.


	12. Accept Suspect Perspectives

She could tell by the coolness of her hand that she was alone. It wasn't the sound of someone's voice, or the feeling of someone's presence that she could assume, but the coolness and empty feeling of her hand. Her body felt like what she could only assume what rigor mortis felt like, rigid and tight, her muscles clamping down on her nerves with such a great force that she felt her only escape was sleep, or death. She knew one of those things wasn't an option, so she tried to relax. The burning in her chest was painful at best, and the air of the room touching her skin felt like millions of needles poking into her skin with each movement as her fever slowly descended.

Waking up had been filled with clouds of confusion as her dreams mixed with reality, and the shock of seeing her father at her bedside had only seemed to confirm the suspicions she had about Booth being injured. The clouds and fog that had filled her mind had gently lifted as she kept her eyes closed, working things through her mind methodically and quickly, despite the effects of the medication she was on. She wished for a moment that they would turn off the machines, at least the heart monitor for she was finding its constant sound to interrupt the thought processes that she was so dearly trying to organize. Max had told her what day it was, the day after Christmas, and she had been shocked by the time that had passed. She tried desperately to remember what had happened, to put back the pieces of the puzzle that her mind had become, but came up with nothing.

She remembered her office, the day before she was to leave on a trip, and Booth's hovering on the other side of the door. It bothered her that he didn't come into her office anymore. It bothered her that there was a magnetic pull that used to pull him toward her, that now seemed to be flipped, pushing him farther and farther from her each day. She felt a lump in her throat, thinking of that moment when she looked up to expect him to be standing in her doorway, finding it empty in his wake as she returned to her task of preparing for her trip.

She could feel tightness in her throat that wasn't there a moment ago as she attempted to push back the emotions, the pain that she was experiencing in her heart. She could hear the monitors connected to her responding to her increase in blood pressure, and though she wasn't in danger, she could hear the nurse's feet as she stepped to note the changes in the levels on the screens. She found that she wasn't alone in the room, though the stern presence of the nurse almost made her feel like she was alone, reading her vitals as if reading a crystal ball into her soul, she wanted nothing more than to pull the tubes and wires from her body. Her blood pressure spiked again, her heart beating wildly in her chest as the nurse checked her temperature, oxygen, and while stepping close to the monitors, she could see the signs of distress, but the nurse couldn't pinpoint it. She couldn't pinpoint it, because she couldn't see what her patient was seeing, couldn't feel the pain, or feel the crushing loneliness that she had felt when she was left behind.

Forgotten.

Pushed aside.

He had moved on without her.

He had promised that he wouldn't betray her, and it wasn't betrayal she felt in a conscious sense, but in her heart she felt betrayed. He moved on without her, left her to fend for herself, to face the world for what it was, and what she had always thought it was.

Cold.

Lonely.

She had asked for it. She had pushed him away, he had moved on because she couldn't. He had a family, he had people to be with, he had a life outside of work. He didn't need her to hold him back anymore. It was her fault, it was her life, it was her decision. Her heart rate began to slow as her thoughts calmed her, her silent compartmentalization was relaxing her, it calmed her. Logical thoughts will bring calm, order.

Logic will prevail.

Logic will not disappoint.

Logic keeps things clear and concise.

Logic.

The door to the room opened, and she remained still, her eyes closed as she listened to the feet of the person that stepped in the room. She instantly recognized the sound of his pace, and it was confirmed when he said something softly to the nurse.

The nurse rattled off her stats and assured him about her ankle, her fever, her pain, as he settled in the chair beside her bed. She felt his hand in hers immediately, his rough fingertips sliding down her soft skin, as she felt her heart rate increase at his touch, and her stomach knotted on top of all of the other pain she felt as she simply breathed in the stale air of the hospital.

She kept her eyes closed as he leaned down and kissed her hand, and she found herself wanting to pull it away from him. She wanted to strike him for giving such intimate attention to something that was not his to give it to. She felt heavy and hurt beneath his touch; amazingly the opposite of what she had felt when she had seen him when she had first woken up. Battered and broken now, the truth pulsed through her mind, repeatedly reminding her that she had called him for help, and he had not been there. His lips were poisoned with his own guilt, his own pain, and his own remorse, and the fact that she was laying there allowing him to kiss her hand made her stomach sour. The soft whisper of his voice, and the heat of his breath on her skin made bile rise into her throat, as she fought it back. She was about to pull her hand from his, when the door opened again.

Another set of familiar steps, and her father spoke. He was speaking in a soft, controlled tone, but Brennan could hear the undertone of frustration. He spoke of Hannah, bringing Booth a change of clothes, bringing something for his fallen partner. The day after Christmas, and here he was sitting in a hospital room with a woman who was not his concern, worried about him, thinking about him enough to bring him a change of clothes. Hannah loved him enough to know that he wouldn't want to leave his partner's bedside, but that was all they were.

Partners

Friends

She wasn't his family. Hannah, Parker, Jared, Padme are his family. She was not, and would never be his family.

She listened to the tone of his voice, the grave and solemn tone of a guilt ridden man, speaking to someone that he felt understood him. Then she heard Booth's words, and could keep silent no longer.

"She needs me to be here." Booth's voice grazed her heart like a sniper's bullet.

Her eyes opened, and she watched his focus on her father. She tried to speak the words she was feeling, and just a whisper escaped her lips. It was enough to pull his attention to her, as she swallowed hard. "Go home, Booth." She whispered. She felt her voice crack, and the pain in her lungs was intense as she watched his forehead wrinkle in confusion. She watched him sincerely, with a stare full of ice and frustration. "Go home."

His reaction didn't surprise her, the stern and serious sound in his voice was almost fatherly in tone. "No."

"Go home." She said, sitting up a little more, she pulled her hand from his, tucking it painfully beneath the blanket, she coughed, wincing at the pain. "I don't need you."

"Bones, don't be stubborn." Booth whispered, the tone of his voice now changing to one of slight begging, mixed with concern.

"Get out." She said, her stare turning to a glower, and the dark rings under eyes stood out more against the harsh fluorescent light. "Get out!"

"Bones, what's wrong?"

"Sweetheart, Booth is here because he cares about you."

She squeezed her eyes tightly and winced as she tried to sit up again, she felt his hand on hers, and she angrily swatted at him. "Just leave me alone!" She tried to shout, though it came out cracked and broken, pain filled as she felt his hand on her arm, holding it lightly yet firmly as she glared at him. "You're not here for me, you're here for you. Go home to your family." She snapped in a half whispered angry voice as she suddenly started to cough.

"Bones, you have to calm down." Booth said, fear rising up in his stomach as he felt her push him away. "Please, Bones."

"Get off of me!" She exclaimed between coughs, she scratched at him as she tried to roll to her side, feeling the pain of the wires and tubes coming with her as the nurse struggled to keep her still as she fought the hold that the nurse had on her, coughing violently as each tremor shook her body violently. Booth instantly took a step back, watching as she struggled with the nurse. "Get him out of here." She sobbed between coughs. "I don't want him here."

"Mr. Booth, Mr. Keenan…" The nurse said as she held Brennan's shoulders as she tried to roll from the bed, the nurse held a mask to her mouth to help her breathe. "Please." She nodded toward the door.

"No." Brennan began to sob, her voice was cracking. "Dad." She whimpered through the mask. "Dad…" She breathed heavily as she tried to reach for Max, her eyes only on him as he exchanged a glance with Booth.

Booth watched at the door as Max stepped to her and she grabbed his hand as if it were the only thing keeping her from falling. He took her arm tenderly and helped her onto the bed, her breathing slowing as she began to cry from the pain in her ankle, the pain in her chest, and the pain in her heart. Her eyes closed tightly as she gripped Max's hand, her eyes traveling to the doorway where Booth once stood was now empty, as the door closed solidly behind him. She took breaths as deeply as she could, her eyes focusing on her father's hand in hers, the cool touch of his fingertips was different from the hand that had been grasping it just moments before. She tipped her head back and turned her head toward the window, just enough to see through the blinds and the reflection of the room, a hand pressed against the solid glass, for just a moment more before it disappeared from view once again.


	13. Just Coffee

His hand that was holding the mug was shaking involuntarily as he placed it gingerly on the saucer and stared inside the cup at the black liquid. His mind was racing with so many thoughts, and it was causing his body to react almost as if he were in withdrawal.

"How many cups of coffee have you had?" Hannah asked, reaching across the small cafeteria table, she placed her hand on his. He looked up at her with exhausted eyes that spoke volumes.

"I don't know."

"Have you eaten anything?" She asked, holding his hand between hers, she was very concerned as she felt his hand trembling in her grip.

"No."

"You need to eat something." She whispered, starting to stand up. "What do you want?"

"Nothing." He mumbled.

"Seeley, you have to eat something." She replied, squeezing his hand. "Come on… what do you want? A sandwich?"

"Whatever." He replied.

"I'm going to go get you a sandwich." She said, watching him closely as she walked away, her eyes on him the entire time as she watched him bring his coffee cup shakily to his lips. She watched him as she stood in line, and ordered a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, something easy and quick, something to soak up the coffee he was drinking as if it were a lifeline.

She brought the sandwich to him and set it in front of him, his eyes focused on something behind her, or perhaps nothing behind her as she tried to get his attention. "I'm not hungry."

"You have to eat something, Seeley. The coffee is eating away at your stomach, you're shaky and full of caffeine."

"I'm fine, Hannah." He said, finally focusing on her, he stared at her for a long minute.

"If you're fine, then why did you need me to come down here?" She asked. She watched him look at her blankly, his gaze was long and unseeing, and Hannah stroked his hand gently. "She's going to be alright, Seeley." Hannah said, trying to calm his nerves. She sat there watching him stare back at her, and honestly wondered why he had called her back. She hadn't been away from the hospital for more than an hour when she had heard from him, calling her to tell her to meet him at the cafeteria for coffee. She had found him in a near catatonic state, staring into a mug of coffee as his other hand drummed at the table. He was a man of few words at that point, almost surprised to see her, though he had been the one to call her, and had refused to say anything more about his partner's well being, or anything else for that matter. "She's going to be alright." She repeated.

"I know she's going to be alright." He snapped, looking into Hannah's eyes, a bit of hurt shadowed for a moment as his expression softened. "She's doing better." He replied. "It's just… I don't like seeing her this way, weak and broken. I don't think she wants me to see her that way either." He said, stretching the truth of his attitude a bit farther than he was comfortable with. "She told me to leave."

"She didn't want you to see her in pain?"

"I don't know." He said, watching Hannah carefully. "She was really worked up. I left because I didn't want her to hurt herself." Booth admitted. "She asked her father to stay."

"You're upset because she'd rather have her father with her?" She asked.

"Max isn't really the nurturing type." Booth replied as he rubbed the bruise on his cheek with the tip of his fingers. Sipping the rest of the coffee in his cup, he stood abruptly. "I need more coffee." He said, walking away from the table and Hannah, as he headed toward the coffee pots.

* * *

"Are you sure you don't need any water?" Max asked, watching his daughter's scowl from the bed. "I'll take that as a no." He replied. "I really think you should have let Booth stay."

Brennan rolled her head in her father's direction. "No." She said, her eyes closing, and opening slowly, she watched her father sleepily. "No." She shook her head and turned away from Max.

"He knows how to take care of you, Temperance. He cares about you so much."

"Stop it, Dad." She said, her voice cracking and squeaking as she wheezed.

"I just don't know if I can do the same job as Booth, you know? You two are able to communicate without even talking most of the time, and I feel like an outsider, you know?"

"If you don't want to be here, then go." She snapped, her chest tightening as her lip trembled. "The doctors can take good care of me." She said, trying to catch her breath, her anxiety was making it harder for her to breathe, and her father's constant harping was not helping.

"I'm sorry." Max said, touching Brennan's arm, she flinched from the pain in her sore muscles and pulled her arm away from him, watching the apologetic look on his face. He sat back in the chair and watched his daughter stare at the wall, obviously brooding about something.

He was just about to pick up a magazine when the sound of Brennan's phone sounded. He pulled the phone from his pocket and noticed her attention was piqued as he looked at the screen. "It's Angela." He said. She extended her hand to her father, and he shook his head. "Sweetheart, you're attached to all of those monitors, you probably shouldn't…"

"Please give me the phone." She said as she started to lean. "Dad." She said, her voice cracking as she winced in pain, he pressed the button and handed it to his daughter before glancing for the nurse.

"Brennan." She croaked into the line, though half of the word was in a whisper from her lost voice.

"Bren?"

"Ange."

"My God, Bren. You sound awful."

"Bacterial Pneumonia." She tried to voice into the phone, choosing to whisper.

"What?"

"Pneumonia." She said, her voice a complete whisper as she struggled to speak and breathe.

"Sweetie, is Max there? Let me talk to him, okay?"

Brennan glanced to her father, and listened to Angela as she continued to insist to speak to Max. She reluctantly handed the phone to her father. "Truth." She managed to grunt as she handed the phone over.

Max nodded and took the phone, watching Brennan carefully for a moment. "Hey, Angela." He said, trying to sound nonchalant. He hoped he'd be able to get past the fact that he hadn't told her the entire truth the day before. The pressure was on even more as Temperance kept a wary eye on him.

"Max, what is going on? You said she was sick, it sounds like it's a lot worse than sick."

"Bacterial Pneumonia." Max said knowingly, watching his daughter nod. "She's… in the hospital."

"The hospital? Max, you said she was just not feeling well. Is she alright? Tell me exactly what happened?"

"Angela, Angela… hang on a second." Max said, waiting for the woman to stop for a moment so he could explain. "I didn't want you to worry. She was sleeping last night when you called, and I apologize for not telling the truth earlier." He said, trying to calm her.

"Why is she at the hospital? How bad did it get? Is anyone else there?"

"Booth was here earlier." Max admitted.

"Good," was Angela's response, though it was followed by a long pause. "We're coming home tomorrow morning." Angela said. "I will call when we get in town."

"I'll let Tempe know." Max nodded.

"Tell her that we send our love."

"I'll let her know." Max said as he listened quietly for Angela to say goodbye before turning the phone off.

"Thank you." Brennan whispered, eying her father for a moment.

He said, leaning forward, he touched her forehead tenderly, looking at the bruise on her soft flesh from her fall. "Why don't you get some sleep?" He said, watching her nod her head sleepily. She tipped her head away from her father and closed her eyes. "I love you." Max whispered.

* * *

Booth was sitting with Hannah, his cup of coffee nearly half empty again as the sandwich she had gotten him stayed on its plate, discarded with just one bite out of it as he tapped the side of his cup. "Seeley, why don't you come home with me, get some sleep."

He looked up at her and shook his head. "Not tired."

"Do you need anything else? Do you need me to get you anything?" She asked, tipping her head as he looked her in the eyes.

"A little more coffee." He said, sliding his cup toward her, he nodded. "Just coffee."


	14. Rome Wasn't Built In a Day

Booth spent the rest of the afternoon and into the evening with Hannah in the cafeteria, and in the waiting room when Hannah had finally convinced him that he needed to slow down and rest. She walked with him down toward the ICU waiting room, noting that he took a long glance down the hallway before turning toward the waiting room. She walked inside with him and settled him down on one of the recliners. She turned on a television, and silently they watched until he tipped his head back and closed his eyes, and fell into what Hannah thought was a peaceful sleep. She stayed with him for a long time, watching him twitch a little in his sleep, and at one point his eyes opened and he looked to her.

"You don't have to stay here." He whispered. "Go home and get some sleep in a real bed."

"I can stay here with you, Seeley. It's okay."

"No." He shook his head. "At least one of us should get a decent night's sleep. I'm not going to, anywhere I sleep."

"Are you sure?" She asked, standing up, she took his hand.

"Yeah." He nodded. "She'll probably feel better in the morning. I'll call you tomorrow." He said, squeezing her hand. "Thank you for staying."

"I love you." She whispered, leaning down to kiss his lips tenderly, he gave her a sad smile and watched her take a step back. "I am sorry that I wasn't more understanding yesterday."

"I know, Hannah." He nodded. "You didn't know the situation, and I didn't want to get everyone worked up. Try to get some sleep. I love you." He said, watching her smile as she let his hand slip from hers.

"You better try to get some sleep too." She replied, watching him for another second. He didn't even hold eye contact with her for a moment before he tipped his head back and stared at the television that was hanging in the corner of the room. He closed his eyes, and she slipped quietly from the room.

* * *

He felt like he had only been resting for a moment or two before he felt a gentle tapping on his shoulder, and a voice calling his name. For a moment, he felt defensive, as if he should strike out at the person, in a near reflex, but recognized it as Max's voice.

"Max?" He asked, his mind blurry around where he was, he immediately tried to sit up. "Bones, is Bones okay?" He asked, feeling the panic rise through his chest and into his throat immediately, he felt Max's hand on his shoulder.

"She's fine." He said, looking into Booth's eyes. The younger man stopped struggling to sit up and leaned back.

"Jesus, Max. You scared the hell out of me."

"Sorry I didn't wake you up with a kiss. How did you want me to wake you up?" Max said sarcastically.

Booth chose to ignore the sarcastic barb and tried to calm his racing heart. "Is she alright?"

"I think you should go home." Max said, choosing to ignore Booth's concern for the moment, he watched a flash of annoyance.

"I'm not going anywhere." He said with an angry growl. "I want to see Bones." He said, starting to sit up, Max put his hand out to him and stopped him.

"She doesn't want to see you, Booth." Max said, the tone of regret was obvious in his deep voice. He shook his head. "She's not in her room right now anywhere."

"Where is she? Is she okay?"

"She's having some tests run. That's why I think you should go home. They're doing lung x-rays, and x-rays on her ankle. Her lungs have to be suctioned every hour, she has breathing treatments, and she's not getting much sleep. The doctor has ordered her not to talk, he's worried about her vocal cords being damaged because of the constant coughing." Max said as he sat down beside Booth.

"You just think I'll upset her." Booth said resentfully.

"I think it would be better if you went home." Max replied. "You're not going to be of any use to anyone if you stay in these chairs. I'll call you if there are any changes."

Booth stared into Max's eyes for a long second, swallowing hard he could feel a physical pain in his chest. "She thinks I abandoned her." Booth whispered, watching Max cringe just a little at the words Booth had chosen, the younger man shoved his face into his hands and let out an expletive, loudly enough to make Max cringe again. "She does! Doesn't she?" Booth asked, pulling his hands from his face. "Goddamn it!" Booth shouted, standing up, he felt a rush of dizziness, but failed to give in as he paced. "I didn't abandon her!" He said, turning to Max. "I moved on! She told me to move on! Why is she so damn stubborn?" He asked between clenched teeth.

"Booth, you should just go home and sit it out for a while, okay? She'll come to her senses, she always does."

"Yeah? I should go home? Abandon her again?" He asked, facing Max. "If I leave, she's going to think I don't care. She's going to think that I don't…" He stopped himself, and set his jaw, his eyes searching Max's as the older man finished the sentence in his own mind.

"I'll tell her that I told you to go."

"Right…" Booth spat with sarcasm that dripped like an open wound. "You, the king of abandonment… you're going to convince the queen of logic that I left, but I didn't abandon her? It's not going to work, Max. I need to see her."

"Booth, she doesn't want to see you right now."

"I'm her goddamned medical proxy. I demand to see her!"

"Not as of this morning, you're not." Max said, turning his head to the pacing Booth, he watched the younger man face the wall without turning around. "Booth?" Max said as he started to stand up. "Booth, she just needs some time."

"She removed me as her health care proxy?" Booth asked, staring at the wall.

"She felt that it was inappropriate." Max said, trying his best to tread lightly, he could feel the anxiety in the room. "She said that… you were in a committed relationship, and that because I am here, and I understand her wishes, that her brother and I should be her medical proxy." Max paused. "We're her family, Booth."

Booth turned slowly, his jaw clicked as his teeth clenched for a moment. What he thought he felt in his chest could have been rage, or it could have been passion, but there wasn't anyone that could tell him the difference. "I need her…" He paused. "… to be alright." He sucked in a deep breath through his nose, and held it for a moment.

"Don't let her make you feel guilty for moving on, Booth. That's not her intention."

"She's punishing me because I wasn't there."

"And it looks like you're doing a pretty damn good job punishing yourself." Max said, watching the rage start to drain from his eyes. "You know her better than anyone else, Booth. She knows this. She's a very, very smart woman, and I think she is using this as her opportunity to move on." Max said. "You two spend so much time together, protecting one another, and chasing after death and evil. You learned to depend on one another. Maybe this is what you need, to disconnect."

"I don't want to disconnect, Max. Not when she's in pain."

"Booth, you can't prevent her pain. She is going to feel it whether you are holding her hand or if you're a thousand miles away. You can't prevent the damage that has already been done. Only time can heal that. She has her family, Booth. She's not alone." Max's comment cut him deeply, that thought that he was no longer her family. He felt unneeded and thrown away, discarded and broken, and Max could see it. "Booth, go home… get some decent sleep, kiss your girlfriend, call your son. You have a family too. Go home and take care of them."

"Bones is my family, Max." Booth whispered.

"Booth, just give her some time." Max said, recognizing a desperate man in need of validation. "I'll talk to her. I'll hold her hand, I'll make sure she's well taken care of… and I'm sure that it won't take long for her to realize that I'm not as good at it as you." Max said. "Don't go home angry, Booth. She loves you."

"She has one hell of a way of showing it." Booth said as he swatted at his coat on the chair. "Tell her that I'm coming back tonight. I'm going to sleep on this damn chair until she sees me, or I go paralyzed… whichever comes first, got that?" Booth asked angrily.

"I'll tell her." Max replied, as he watched Booth turn angrily, and stomp his way through the waiting room, and out the door.


	15. Stab, and Twist

Booth arrived to an empty apartment, his eyes blurry with sleep as he surveyed the state of his living space. The Christmas wrappings had been cleaned up, and Parker's gifts had been piled neatly under the tree, left for another day. He stepped toward the tree, and glanced down, spotting a package that was wrapped in gold paper, unopened and sitting neatly on the table by the tree. He lifted it up and glanced at the tag, not recognizing the box, he was confused, until he read the tag.

**'To Bones, the smartest person I know. Love, Parker' **

Booth stared at his son's scrawl on the card, and ran his finger over the small tag, wondering for a moment what was in the box, he imagined it was something his son had picked out personally. He hadn't remembered seeing it with the other gifts under the tree, and imagined that Parker had brought it with his overnight things, probably pulling it from his bag before leaving to go back to his mother's house, for his father to bring to her. He placed the box back on the table and turned toward the bedroom, moving sloppily down the hallway, he opened the bedroom door and noticed that the bed had been made.

He kicked his shoes off, not bothering to remove the blankets, he crashed onto the bed with an unceremonious flop, as he grabbed the pillow in a tight grip, hugging it as if for dear life. He curled around the pillow and closed his eyes for a moment, visions of the tubes and wires that were attached to his partner haunted his memory as he tried to block out the sounds of the ICU from his mind. So much noise filled that small room, the loud and echoing cough of his partner rattling his mind, and her words to him echoing.

_'You're not here for me, you're here for you.'_

The words had been spoken in anger, but with the strong inflection of truth, and that made it sting all the more. He had been trying to block those words from his mind for the past twenty four hours, and now more than ever they were rearing their ugly head as the guilt in his heart weighed heavily on him. He closed his eyes at the thought of Max's words, and the obvious rejection of Brennan, trying desperately to understand the conflicts in his mind.

He quickly found himself giving into his exhaustion, though not peacefully, as torment and guilt collided into his dreams, and he dove into a solid sleep head first without looking.

* * *

He felt a hand on his cheek, knuckles rolling gently down his face before he opened his eyes. He breathed in slowly, smelling her scent before his eyes blearily opened. He smiled just slightly at her eyes as they looked back at him, her blonde hair cascading down her shoulder, her eyes showing intense concern as her hand continued to gently caress his skin.

"Hey, sleepy head." Hannah whispered softly.

"Hey." He said, his voice gravely and deep as he rolled onto his back. His eyes fastened on the clock, its letters blaring out at him, but he still asked the question. "What time is it?" He whispered.

"It's almost three." She paused, watching his eyes lock on hers, his brow furrowed. "In the afternoon." She replied. "I tried calling you, but when you didn't answer, I figured you might be in with Temperance."

"No." He said, refusing to say anything further, he watched her eyes reflect back at him.

"What happened?" She asked.

"Nothing, I just came home to get some sleep before I went back to the hospital." He groaned as he started to sit up. "Why?"

"No, Seeley. What happened between you and Temperance?"

"Nothing happened between me and Bones, what are you talking about?" Booth asked, almost too defensively as he tried to sit up, feeling an intense dizziness, he collapsed back against the bed with his hand over his forehead, slipping over his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I mean… You two used to be really close. You used to hang out with her a lot more, and I got that… but lately, you haven't. Then this happens, and you dropped everything to be there, only to have her force you from her side. It doesn't take an investigative journalist to see that something happened." She said, pulling at his hand, he looked at her with a sleepy expression, that feigned ignorance.

"She called me the other night to help her out, and I ignored the call."

"When she called at four in the morning?"

"Yes. She called a second time. I ignored it. I never ignore her calls, Hannah."

"So she's mad at you?"

"It's more complicated than that." He said, covering his eyes again.

"How is it more complicated than that? She thought you could help, you didn't… and she got in over her head. It happens."

"It doesn't happen." Booth replied. "It happened, but it wasn't supposed to."

"Seeley, she can't expect you to answer her every wish."

"Yeah, well I should have answered this one!" He snapped, rolling onto his side, he stared at the wall.

"Hey." Hannah said, tugging his arm a bit. "Can I tell you something?"

"Whatever." He grumbled.

"Do you know why I haven't gone to see Temperance yet?"

"No."

"Because I feel guilty too." She whispered, leaning over him, she kissed his cheek. "I feel guilty that I didn't realize how serious it was. I was afraid that if I saw her, that I'd feel that all over again." Hannah admitted. "I'm pretty sure that she wouldn't have wanted to see me anyway."

"Bones doesn't blame you." Booth said, looking up at Hannah. "She's too logical for that. She blames me." He said. "I was the one that abandoned her." He whispered under his breath.

"What was that?" Hannah asked against his ear.

"Nothing." He whispered.

"Are you going back to the hospital?" She asked.

"I'm staying there until she sees me. I don't have to go back into the office until after the New Year… and if it takes until then, I'll be there." He replied, closing his eyes. Quickly, he fell back into that restless sleep she had awoken him from, and quickly, everything else disappeared.

* * *

When he woke up several hours later, he felt no more refreshed than when he had originally fallen asleep. In fact, he could argue that he felt more exhausted and emotionally drained than he had been before he had gone to sleep. He rolled uneasily from the bed and into the bathroom, where he struggled out of his clothes and stepped into the shower. He turned on the shower, shocked by the spray of cold water still settled in the pipes as it slammed into his skin, he let out a swallowed yelp. The water heated quickly, and before long, he forgot about that initial sting of cold water.

He let the hot water pelt his skin, steam rising from its spray as he tried to wash away the exhaustion and stress that was currently ravaging his body, mind and soul. He showered until the water ran cool, and quickly climbed from the tub, grabbed a towel and moved toward the bedroom to get dressed.

Once he was dressed and ready, he stepped into the living room and glanced to the gift on the table. He picked it up and held it in his hands, as he slipped his coat on, and was out the door without so much as a second thought. When he arrived at the hospital, he went directly to ICU, and stepped into the waiting room just as Russ exited.

"Hey, Russ." Booth said, trying to sound as friendly as he could, despite the tightness in his chest, but Russ just looked at him for a moment.

"Hey." He said, walking past Booth without another word, he walked down toward his sister's room. Booth turned to see if the man had anything else to say, when he saw Angela walking down the hallway toward him, her hand in Hodgins'.

"Ange." Booth said, a slight sense of relief came over him at seeing the familiar face of someone who didn't seem to want to be done with him, she released Hodgins' hand.

"Hey, Booth." Hodgins said as he watched Angela step close to Booth and instantly wrap her arms around him.

"Hey, hey…" Booth said, hugging her, he looked over at Hodgins, who shrugged. "Ange, are you okay?"

"Thank God you were here for her." Angela said, pulling from her hug, she looked Booth in his eyes. "She looks awful, Booth."

"I know." He nodded, not sure what to say to his partner's best friend for the moment, he glanced down the hallway. "When did you guys get here?"

"About an hour ago." Hodgins said.

"Why didn't you call us and tell us to come home, Booth?" She asked. "I had to hear it from Max… and she was mugged? Did you find the scumbag that did this to her yet?" She asked, tears fresh in her eyes as Hodgins stepped forward and took her hand.

"Uh… uh, no." He shook his head. "So, Russ is here?" Booth swallowed.

"Yeah, he was in the waiting room, since they only allow a two visitors at a time. Max left for something to eat." Angela replied. "Did you talk to Russ?"

"No." Booth shook his head. "How is she doing?" He asked.

"She's stable, and they are trying to keep the fluids out of her lungs… she's not allowed to talk, but she was able to write a little bit. You're going to go see her now?" Angela asked, obviously she was oblivious to the fallout between the two partners, and Brennan's refusal to see him.

"Yeah… yeah, I'm here for her." He nodded.

"Max said you stayed overnight and were just going out to get some food, and a nap." She said, taking Booth's hand. "You're a good friend, Booth." She said, missing the wince in his face as her comment stabbed him right in the heart. "We'll be back tomorrow." She said, giving him another hug. "Take good care of her for us."

"I will try." Booth whispered, meaning every word as he pulled from the hug and gave Angela a supportive smile, before the two of them turned and made their way to the exit.

He looked up and toward Brennan's room, the glass window was visible from where he was standing, as he latched eyes with Russ for a split second, before the other man's back was turned to him once again.

Booth then turned, stepping back into the waiting room as he made his way back to the uncomfortable chair he had slept in the night before. "I'm back." He mumbled to the chair. "And I have a feeling that you and I are going to become very close friends." He mumbled as he sat down in the chair and tipped it back. He placed Parker's gift on the table beside him, and stared for several moments at the blank television screen, trying his best to get as comfortable as possible.


	16. Dreams and Reality

_The room was darker than when he had drifted to sleep on the chair in the waiting room. Before falling asleep, he had eaten a small bag of chips and an off brand cola that had been dispensed from the vending machine in the room, and before he fell asleep, his stomach was performing a three ring circus, complete with trampoline and high wire act. Now he sat in the chair, staring at the dark screen of the television in a room that appeared to have half of the lights turned off. He wondered for a moment if the nurses had turned the lights down because he was sleeping, and glanced to the doorway._

_The hospital seemed much quieter than when he had fallen asleep, the sounds of the nurses, doctors, orderlies, even the sounds of the heat clicking on and off in the room seemed to be absent as he sat up slowly. He glanced to his wrist to check the time, noting that he hadn't worn his watch, and sighed as he reached for the television controller to turn the tv on. He clicked the button again and again, and it didn't turn on. With a frustrated grunt, he tossed it onto the couch next to him and stood up carefully._

_He noticed as he stood up that he didn't feel that typical crick in his neck that had been present the night before when he slept in this chair, his eyes a bit foggy as he rubbed them, yawning. He stepped toward the hallway and noticed the lights in the hall were brighter than he had remembered them being, making his eyes hurt for a moment as he rubbed them. He looked down the hallway, bright with the fluorescent lights above, there was nobody in the hall. There were no nurses, no orderlies, nothing._

_It was as silent as death._

_He could feel his stomach, like a lead weight as he stared into the bright hallway and down into the empty depths of the long corridor. He began to step down the hallway, and swore that the room at the end was becoming farther and farther with each step. He could see the window, the window of the ICU room where Brennan was staying, the bed was at an odd angle, and the room was empty. His eyes glanced over the nurse's station, looking to see if anyone was watching him head toward the room, and nobody stood behind the counters, nobody seemed to be around anywhere._

_He stepped toward the door and slammed his arm into the wood of the door, swinging it open quickly, his eyes moving to the bed, now turned to the opposite wall. Nobody sat in the chair beside her bed, and the room was strangely cold. He stepped around the bed and noticed that Brennan was covered by a sheet, head to toe, and his heart was beating rapidly in his chest, his breathing becoming shallow and broken as he noticed that the monitors were no longer connected to her._

_"No." He managed to whisper, tucking his hands beneath the sheet, he slowly pulled it away, he could feel the tears in his eyes as he started to pull it from her head._

_He heard her voice come from the other side of the room as he pulled the sheet, his eyes moving across the room as he listened to her words. "I'm so cold."_

_He had turned his head back to the body in the bed, and was horrified by what he saw. Lying in the bed before him was a skeleton, bare and clean, as white as the sheets that they were wrapped in. He gasped in horror._

* * *

Booth literally jumped from the recliner chair into a standing position, sweating profusely and out of breath, he instantly felt the strong pull of dizziness pushing him back into the chair. He grabbed his head and tried to stay standing as he wiped the sweat from his forehead and glanced to the television. The screen was on, muted but showing the news, and the ticker at the bottom stated the time of 8am. He was still trembling from his nightmare, the glance to the hallway made a sense of relief flow through him when he saw nurses and people walking down the hallways, as the clatter and noise of the hospital rang in his ears. He walked slowly toward the door and looked down the hallway, feeling the tremble of his hands on the doorway as he stood there.

He took slow, deep breaths as he tried to rid himself of the visions of his nightmares, and decided that whether she liked it or not, he was going to visit her. After that nightmare, he knew that he needed to see her. He walked down toward the room that she had been in since that first day, the ICU room with the large picture window. As he approached, he noted that she was no longer in there, the bed now occupied by an older gentlemen who looked frail and ashen. Booth began to panic suddenly, his hands moving to the window for a split second as he turned quickly and nearly ran into a nurse.

"Can you tell me where the woman that was in this room is now?" He asked quickly to the nurse, who was holding an armful of different medical supplies.

"I'm sorry?"

"The woman that was in this room yesterday. She's not there now, where is she now?"

"Are you a relative?"

He didn't pause, knowing that there could be roadblocks. "I'm her partner." He said, his voice confident and low, or at least he thought it sounded confident to himself, and the nurse nodded. She didn't know that he meant 'work partner', and at this point, that information was not important.

"You can ask the nurse at the desk over there. She will be able to search the database and find your… partner." She said, watching Booth nod a thanks and turn swiftly toward the desk, his step not wavering a moment as he pressed his hands down on the counter and waited for the nurse to acknowledge him.

After a moment, the nurse at the counter looked to him. "Can I help you, sir?"

"I'm looking for Doctor Temperance Brennan." Booth said gruffly, as he waited for the response, praying that his nightmare wasn't about to come true. "I need to find her room, please." He paused.

He walked doggedly down the hallway of the next floor up from ICU, his acute sense of hearing immediately catching the sound of two men speaking in hushed whispers just around the corner. Amid the other hospital noises, he clearly heard Max's voice first before he turned the corner, and what he said forced a rush of anger to course through his body. He didn't realize that Brennan's room was so close to where he would find Max and Russ, and before he even realized it, he was in the middle of the hushed argument as well.

"Well, she can't very well stay here." Russ said angrily as his eyes lifted to see the intimidating stance of his sister's partner walking around the corner.

"Bones isn't going anywhere." Booth said in a low voice, the determination was raw and palpable. "There is no way."

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Russ asked.

"Russ, keep it down." Max replied. "I'm sorry we didn't let you know she was moved to another floor." He said innocently as Booth nodded in understanding. "Russ, there is no way that Tempe would ever go for going with you. For recovery or anything…"

"What? You don't think I could take care of her? I'd do better than some people." Russ said angrily, glaring at Booth.

"I need to see her." Booth said as he stepped toward the door, unable to see inside, Russ stood in his way.

"No." Russ said angrily. "She is sleeping. You should go home, this is a family conversation."

"I don't know what bug crawled up your ass and died, Russ, or what drugs you've been smoking, but I am going in that room."

"Dad, she said she didn't want him here." Russ said, still standing in Booth's way.

"Booth, we're just discussing her recovery. She's going to be in the hospital for a few more days, but her ankle is broken, and she's going to need breathing therapy. Russ thought that a nice peaceful recovery on the beach would be just what she needs."

"She's not going to North Carolina to live with Russ, Max. It's not an option. She needs to be here, in Washington DC. It's where she belongs, its where she lives."

"It's for recovery, Booth. It's not forever." Max replied, trying to calm the enraged man before him.

"No. Absolutely not." Booth shook his head.

"You don't get a say in this." Russ said, pushing Booth a bit, Booth glared at him.

"Don't you think that just because we're in the hospital that I won't kick your ass." Booth said angrily.

"Try it… try it, Booth. Put me in the hospital too." Russ goaded. "It wasn't bad enough that you put Tempe here!" He said, but before he could finish his sentence, Booth had Russ up against the wall beside the door to Brennan's room, holding him several inches off the ground by his shirt and his throat.

"Booth, put him down!" Max exclaimed as several nurses came rushing toward them. It was when the nurses rushed into the room beside them that they all began to panic, as the deafening sound of the flat line on the monitor from within rushed their ears and battered their minds, as Booth all but dropped Russ to the ground, and caught Max's eyes, as the faces of all three men turned a deadly pale of shock.


	17. I'd Rather Have You Hate Me

The moment between the time the alarm sounded, and the time that people responded was mere seconds. Several nurses had already rushed into Brennan's room, and the three men standing just outside the door were frozen in a moment of panic and shock. Booth felt the intense need to barge into the room, but knew logically that all he would do would hinder the work of the professionals. When the door to the room opened again, the nurses exited slowly. "What happened?" Booth asked, nearly grabbing one of the exiting nurses by the arm, he could see that she was incredibly irritated. "Is she okay?"

"She's fine." The nurse said as she turned and walked away from him. Max and Booth exchanged a look, and turned to the room again, when the doctor who had also disappeared into the room walked out with the chart.

"It appears that Ms. Brennan is looking for a…" he said as he lifted a small bit of paper and looked up at the three men. "A… Mr. Booth."

"She's looking for me?" Booth asked, obviously confused about the entire situation, the Doctor sighed.

"It appears that Ms. Brennan heard the argument that you three gentlemen were having out here in the hallway, and decided that the only way to get your attention was to remove her heart monitor." He stated with a slight irritation. "In order to avoid any other waste of my staff's time, I'd appreciate it if you would please try to keep her as comfortable as possible, and if you feel the need to have an altercation, I recommend you take it outside of the hospital." The doctor said as he turned and walked away.

Booth didn't bother to even look to Russ or Max before entering the room, his eyes clashing with Brennan's as soon as he stepped into her room. She looked almost as bad as the last time had seen her. Her eyes were still sunken in, and her lips looked dry and cracked. He could see that she was still having problems breathing, but that didn't stop that smug look in her eye from appearing.

"Bones?" He said, approaching her bed, he stopped when she held her hand up, her eyes flickering to the other two men who entered her room.

"Out." She said, her voice a whispered shout as she pointed toward the door, Max and Russ stopped and Booth thought for a moment that she was talking to him. He started to turn, and felt her hand grab his sleeve. He turned his head, and she shook her head, pointing to the other men.

"You want them to leave?" He asked, and she nodded, looking toward her father and Russ, she held her finger up to indicate that she needed time with Booth. "You're not supposed to talk." He said, instantly taking the glare she gave him for everything it was worth. He was just happy to be in her presence, and she already knew that he'd be protective of her, it was just his nature. He was about to ask her what she needed, when she pulled him closer to her. "Bones? What…?" He stammered, as she grabbed at his shirt weakly, moving her hand over his chest as she gripped his jacket, her hand shakily reaching into the breast pocket of his leather jacket. She pulled at the small notebook that she knew that he always had on him, and he watched her flip it open as she pushed back at him, and pulled the pen out of the binding of the notebook, her weak hand scribbling something on the paper.

She then ripped the paper out and held it up around Booth, her eyes glaring at the men in the doorway who still hadn't left. Russ stepped forward and grabbed the paper from his sister's hand, glaring at Booth as he looked into her eyes. "Russ, Dad, Out." He read out loud. "Tempe, I don't think…" She closed her eyes and pointed toward the door, her hand holding Booth's jacket to ensure he wouldn't leave with them, and reluctantly they left the room.

As soon as the door closed, Booth turned back toward her. "You hate me, don't you?" He asked, sincere and honest, he waited for her answer.

She shook her head, keeping her eyes on him; she watched the sadness in his eyes as he searched her face for a different answer. "I'm not here just for me." He stated clearly. "I am here for you."

She could see that the words she had spoken in anger had rocked him, and that he had held them close to his heart just as she thought he would. "I do…not… hate you." She said, her voice straining with each word, though she knew that she needed to say it out loud, and not simply write it on a piece of paper.

He placed his hand on hers, and pulled the small notepad out of her fingertips, he held it up. "No more talking." He said, shaking the pad with a serious expression, ensuring that she knew that he was serious in his demand.

She nodded and took the pad from him, flipping to the first blank page, she took a pen to the paper. With a weak, shaky hand, she wrote on the paper and paused after a moment, holding it out to him. He took the notepad and read the words, and she watched his eyebrows knit together, as his eyes lifted to meet hers. "You don't hate me, you're disappointed in me?" He said, watching her eyes stare directly into his. "I am sorry, Bones." He whispered. "You believe me, don't you?"

She nodded and reached up, plucking the notepad from his fingertips, she wrote something else, and handed it to him.

"Don't let Russ anger you. This is not your fault." He read out loud, his eyes flickering to the door. "You heard the argument." He stated, watching her nod her head as she rested her head on the pillow. "Bones, if I…." he said, feeling her hand clamp down on his, she gave him a stern look. "If I had just answered the phone call, Bones. If I had just listened to your voice when you called, I would have known." He watched her close her eyes as she held his hand down, trying to breathe deeply, he could see she was in pain. "I was selfish…. And yeah, I came here for my own peace of mind, but not because I knew what I had done, but because any time you are hurt, no matter the source. I can feel it." He replied sincerely. "It hurts me when you hurt."

The moment he said those words, her eyes were on his, and they were not the eyes of a welcoming person, but one who was frustrated beyond words. He watched her try to breathe deeply, her breath becoming caught on something in her respiratory system, she began to cough. Booth could see the pain on her face with each cough as she tried to control it, her body thrown forward with the force of the cough, her hand gripped his tightly as she breathed in and tipped her head back, with her eyes closed, obviously trying to hold her breath against the onslaught of coughing. Her eyes widened as she continued to cough, and Booth reached up to press the button for the nurse.

Upon entering, the nurse went immediately to Brennan's bed and began to try to soothe her coughs. She gripped his hand with each cough, and with each cough, she let out a wheezing whine that he had never heard from her. Her face was red from coughing, and the nurse began preparing some kind of procedure that Booth was unfamiliar with. He had been up close and personal with death, murder, and pain, but when the nurse began pushing that tube through his partner's nose to begin what she called 'NT suctioning', Booth almost became physically ill. Brennan's eyes were closed tight as she coughed, the nurse explaining to Booth how she was suctioning the mucus from her lungs so that she wouldn't simply drown in it, he tried all he could not to close his eyes, but focus on the woman lying in the bed. She coughed for what Booth felt was far too long, and he worried that she wasn't breathing properly. "Aren't you done with that yet?" He snapped at the nurse, who said nothing, but quickly finished the procedure, trying her best to minimize the pain in her patient, as the helpless man looked on.

Brennan's coughing ceased, and she tipped her head back on the pillow as the nurse attended to her carefully. She turned her head toward Booth and let out a pitiful whimper that he knew she couldn't help. The nurse announced that a respiratory therapist would be there shortly to give her a breathing treatment. "Do you want me to go?" Booth whispered, feeling her hand loosen on his. She shook her head. "Are you sure?"

Her hand gripped his a little tighter, her eyes still closed. "We're going to talk soon." He whispered, watching her head nod slowly, as the door opened to the room. Booth looked up to see Max standing in the doorway.

"We're going to go get something to eat." He said, watching Booth nod. "Do you need anything?"

Booth shook his head, his eyes on Max's as he felt Brennan's fingers moving slightly on his hand. "I've got what I need for now." He replied, looking down at Brennan's words on the small notepad lying on the bed in front of him. 'This is not your fault.' He looked back to Max. "Thanks, Max." Booth said, as the older man gave him a reassuring smile and disappeared out the door once again.


	18. Time for Time

**December 28**

Brennan slept silently until the respiratory therapist came into the room prepared with her medication. It wasn't very long that she had been asleep, and Booth wanted to tell her to leave and come back later. Instead, he pulled his chair back slightly and watched the therapist carefully wake Brennan.

The moment her eyes opened, she lifted her head slightly to see Booth's eyes on hers. She then focused on the therapist as she allowed her to perform the breathing treatments necessary to break up much of the phlegm and mucus that was currently blocking her ability to breathe properly. Booth watched silently from his corner, his eyes on hers as she breathed in the medicine slowly, trying not to cough as it started to loosen the buildup in her lungs.

Booth was thankful for the soft voice of the respiratory therapist, coaxing Brennan to breathe, her voice soothing and soft as she cared for her as well as she could, afterwards leaving with a polite smile to Booth. Brennan sat back in the bed her eyes now focused on the wall for a moment, she heard him stand slowly.

"Are you still in a lot of pain?" He asked, watching her head nod slowly, she kept her eyes focused on the wall. "I'm sorry."

She looked to him, her eyes focused in a blank stare for a moment. She looked like she had much to say, but of course nothing slipped from her lips. She just watched him for a moment.

"I know why you did what you did." He replied. "The proxy thing."

And with that, her eyes moved from his again. She wasn't sure why she couldn't look at him through this conversation, it wasn't as if she thought that it would never occur. There was a very strong possibility, however, that she was embarrassed about that decision, or that she felt guilty knowing that she would be hurting him with her decision.

"Bones." He said, waiting for her to look at him, he was willing to wait forever for that opportunity, and she was well aware of his patience. "You don't have to explain it to me. I just wish you had told me yourself."

She turned her head toward him and watched him for a moment, gauging his sincerity in a peaceful moment that they both appreciated. It was the first time they had communicated something other than pain in a very long time, and they were both willing to let it last as long as they possibly could.

The silence between them was comfortable and nerve-wracking at the same time, and neither wanted to break its delicate balance. He feared that one wrong word would have him banished from her room once again, and she feared that the things that she truly wished she could say to him would drive him from her side.

So each remained silent, peaceful in a regard that both respected, through the morning, afternoon and into the evening. There were therapies and breathing treatments, more lung suctioning and painful procedures that he simply held her hand through and supported her. Max and Russ returned after their meal, and a long drive through the city to give the two of them some peace, and when they returned, they found Brennan sleeping peacefully with her head tipped to the side. Booth's hand was in hers as she slept, and she appeared to be more peaceful than any of the sleeps they had witnessed before. Booth was dozing slightly, when the door opened, and Max stepped in holding a package in his hand that Booth immediately recognized.

"I forgot that in the waiting room, didn't I?" He asked, watching Max nod his head slowly.

"It's alright, I had seen you with it last night when you came back, and it hadn't been moved from the table where you had left it."

"It's for Bones." Booth said softly. "From Parker." Booth felt a tug on his hand, and glanced to Brennan, her eyes on the gift as she reached out for it, held it in his hand and watched her eyes. "Do you want to open the gift?" He asked, and her head shook slowly, with her eyes solely on Booth's for several moments. Max watched the silent exchange as he nodded. Her lips didn't move, her eyes seemed to speak only to Booth. "We can wait until he visits, if you would rather, I think he'd prefer that too." Booth said. She tipped her head slightly, and her eyes heavily closed, her hand still in his.

Booth turned to Max. "Thank you." He said, setting it on Brennan's lap, he watched her smile as her hand grasped the gift lightly, and her eyes flickered open, and closed again.

* * *

**December 29**

Brennan and Booth sat together silently, a game of cards that had changed rules far too many times for them to even recognize a sanctioned card game. Booth tossed down an ace, and Brennan slammed her hand down on the wobbly table as he looked up at her oddly. "We're not playing whack a jack." He said, and she lifted her hand. "That's not even a jack."

To get her point across, she swiped the card from the table and let out an irritated grunt. "Hey, hey…" Booth said, pulling out a small notebook from the bedside table, he slapped it down on the table. "No grumpy Bones."

"No more cards." She wrote, her eyes watching his reaction as he nodded.

"Fine."

"I am my own woman." She wrote on the paper, his eyebrow lifting in confusion as he watched her breathing slightly labored.

"Are you okay, Bones?"

"I make my own decisions." She wrote, staring at the words on her paper, she tipped her head back and let out a bit of a whine.

"I'm calling the nurse." He said, leaning over to the button, her hand clamped on his.

"No." She said, glaring at him, he stopped moving and watched her. Her voice was getting no better, and he knew that when she spoke it only caused her pain, so he stopped.

"You're being stubborn. You're having problems breathing."

She glared at him for another moment, her anxiety passing, and her breathing regulating while they stared at one another for several moments. She then took her pen to the paper. "I am not going to just do what you, Russ, or my father wants. I will do what I want, what is best for me."

"I know you will." He replied, looking up from the paper. "I don't doubt that you will. You're smart, you're independent."

"You think I am a pain in the ass." She wrote quickly, catching his eyes with hers.

"You didn't let me finish." He said, not bothering to hide the smile on his face. "I know you'll tell me what your decision is. I know that you'll do what is best for you." He paused for a moment, and for some reason, his next words surprised him. "Hannah wants to visit."

"Why?" Brennan wrote on the paper.

"She values your friendship." Booth said sincerely. "Do you want her to visit?"

"Why wouldn't I?" She replied on the paper, watching him shake his head.

"Forget it." Booth replied. "I'll tell her that you wouldn't mind having some company." He rolled his eyes. He noticed that she was now avoiding eye contact, her eyes staring at the paper before her. "I know of someone else who is hoping to see you soon." She turned her head curiously, and he watched her eyes flicker toward the unopened gift on the bedside table. "I told him it would still be a couple more days. You need more rest." He said, watching her nod her head, her eyes focusing back on the paper again. "Do you want me to give you some time alone?"

She nodded slowly, her hand twitching on the pen in her hand, her eyes moved to him, and she tipped her head back. She nodded again, with her eyes focused on his. He stood up and leaned forward, touching her hand lightly, searching her eyes. "Get some rest, I'll be back later." He said, touching her cheek tenderly as she looked up at him, before he turned and walked quietly from the room.

* * *

**December 30**

When Booth opened the door to Brennan's room, Parker nearly slammed the door open with his shoulder and made his way quickly through toward the bed.

"Parker, don't run."

"Sorry Dad." He said as he passed his father, stopping when he realized that the woman in the bed was sleeping. "Oh." Parker whispered, as he moved to turn around and nearly ran into his father. "She's sleeping." He said softly.

"She'll wake up." Booth said with a whisper, stepping toward the bed, he sat down on the chair and Parker waited for a moment before he came nearer.

"What are all of those things for?" He asked, referring to the tubes and wires in the room, most of which Brennan had told him about via a short essay on her writing paper, but he had long since forgotten. Booth could see when she was in pain, or having problems breathing, he didn't need a monitor to tell him.

"They're just there to tell the doctor what is going on with Bones without having to wake her up." He said, muttering that it never stopped them from waking her up anyway. Parker was still a good distance away, and Booth waved him over. "It's alright, you can come closer."

"It's okay." Parker said, staring at the screens, watching the different numbers on them and sounds coming from them. "She's going to be okay, right?"

"She's going to be just fine." Booth said, glancing to the bed. "Come over here…"

"Nah." Parker shrugged. He watched as Brennan moved on the bed, her head turning as her eyes opened slowly. "Bones." He smiled.

Her brow furrowed and Booth watched her eyes meet with his. "He's afraid of you."

"I am not!" Parker exclaimed, taking a small step forward. "I'm not afraid, Bones."

Brennan looked to Parker and back to Booth.

"She wants to know why you're all the way over there."

"Because I don't want to get tangled in her stuff." He sighed, as if he had made the statement several times and his father just hadn't heard him. He still watched Brennan anxiously. She lifted her hand and waved him over, pointing to the gift on the table.

"She wants you to give your gift to her. She's been waiting patiently since I brought it, and there were a couple of times, I caught her trying to open it when I wasn't… ow." He said, to the fingers that pinched his wrist, he glared at her. "Not nice, Bones."

Parker laughed as he lifted the box up, and brought it to her, placing it in her lap, he took a step back. Booth put his hand on Parker's back, moving him forward slightly toward the bed so that he could watch her open her gift. "She wants to know what's in the box." Booth said, noting that Brennan had paused; Parker looked to his father and back to Bones.

"Open it and find out." He said, laughing when Brennan glared at Booth. "I think she wants you to stop talking, Dad."

"Thanks." Brennan said with a broken voice to Parker, a word that made him laugh out loud at the look on his father's face while he leaned against him and waited for Brennan to open the gift.

"It's not much, but I wanted to make sure you had a good Christmas." Parker said, watching the wrapping paper slide from the simple wooden box, she looked to Parker and smiled. It had a stamp on the side; the wood was worn and smelled of old tobacco. "It's a cigar box. Pops gave it to me to keep things that are important to me in it, kind of like artifacts and stuff." He reached forward. "See, I put a couple of things in it already." He popped the tiny latch on the box and opened it, and Brennan lifted a small card from the box. "That's my hockey card." He said, taking it from her. "See, that's my picture, and on the other side I put my stats on it… stats are like the numbers you get for when you do certain things, like make goals and stuff." He explained as she looked at the card, flipping it in her hand, he reached into the box. "This is the nose plug that I got you for when we go swimming. Remember that time that dad made you laugh when you were jumping in the pool, and you snorted up a whole bunch of water?" Parker asked with a laugh, looking to Brennan as she smiled with a nod, her hand touching Parker's. "Oh! And this is the ribbon from the science fair last fall. You helped me with that, and I thought that we could share the ribbon." He said, smiling as he rubbed the ribbon between his fingers and looked to Brennan. "Bones?"

Brennan was staring into the box, her breathing a bit erratic as she tried to control the tears in her eyes. "Thank you, Parker." She whispered, wincing from the pain, she couldn't help but see the sympathy in his tender eyes.

"Don't talk, Bones, its okay." Parker said, leaning up to carefully give her a hug, he felt her arms limply around him. "Just feel better, okay?" He said, pulling away from the hug, he smiled. "Dad needs your help catching bad guys again soon."

She touched his hair and smiled, and he leaned in for another hug, her eyes closing as she held him tightly, grateful to have such a loving boy with her heart and health on his mind.

* * *

**January 1**

Brennan woke sleepily and turned her head as the hospital room door opened, expecting to see another nurse coming in to poke her or prod her again, she was happy to see Booth walking backwards into the room as he spoke to a nurse. He turned around and found that she was watching him curiously.

"Hey." He said with a smile as he stepped up to the bed, immediately taking her hand in his. "Any better today?"

She shrugged and watched him, swallowing the pain her throat from her most recent procedures and therapy had caused. "You're never going to guess what happened last night."

Brennan seemed interested, and was interested to a point, but she was more than positive that he was about to go into great detail about his New Years Eve festivities, and how he spent it with Hannah, nestled by a fire, and found a new meaning in their relationship. She squeezed his hand slightly and her eyebrows furrowed as he gave her a sort of sly grin.

She hadn't seen him since he had brought Parker by, and she had insisted that they spend time together since their Christmas dinner had been cut short. She had felt guilty enough about that, though she never vocalized it to Booth, and didn't want to ruin any other impending holiday traditions.

She didn't ask him his plans, but knew that he would be spending New Years with Hannah and Parker, perhaps inviting Jared and Padme along as well. She could feel the anxiety welling up inside her as she waited for his reply, waited for his explanation, and though she knew that his excitement was simply related to his newfound family, she wanted so badly to feel happy for him. Her pad of paper was at her side, and she didn't have the strength to lift it up, so she squeezed his hand again to prompt him to continue, bracing herself internally with a quick inventory of compartmentalized emotions as she quickly packaged them away.

"They found a body in a shower." He said, definitively, watching her eyebrow lift in an obvious expression of confusion. "A case, Bones… we have a case. It came in yesterday." He watched her face twist into a scowl, and he shook his head. "I know, I know you can't work on it, but you can help us, right? It'll give you something to do." He shrugged, watching her eyes begin to lighten a bit. "It means you don't have to play lame card games with me anymore." He said, watching her eyes for a moment. There was a lightness in them, as if she were almost looking into him instead of at him, he felt transparent. "Bones, are you alright?"

She released his hand and pulled the pad from beside her and let it sit on her lap as she scrawled something on her paper. With a hint of a smirk, she lifted the paper up and smiled a little brighter, catching his eyes with hers.

He grinned back at her and shook his head, looking at the words on the paper. "I forgot." He said, letting out a laugh. "Happy New Year to you too, Bones." He said, snatching her hand up once again, it felt good to him to see her smiling again.

* * *

**January 4**

The time in the hospital was good for Brennan, and with each passing day, her strength returned with a bit more vengeance, and her spirit was back in full force. She was sitting up in her bed a bit more comfortably, her computer on her lap as she awaited her next breathing treatment, or guest, or interruption. She was more than ready to leave the hospital, and her plans had been arranged, her papers all signed, the only thing she could do now was wait for the next morning, the last chest x-ray before they discharged her.

Her eyes were brought to the door as it opened, and Booth walked in with Hannah at his side, a sight that she had forced herself to see as normal, though she could tell that Booth was feeling a bit awkward about it all. "Bones…the doctor said you're out of here tomorrow." He said with a smile, watching her nod, she waved at Hannah.

"Hi, Temperance." She said softly. "I'm sorry that he's been driving you crazy, I just can't seem to get him to leave you alone." She joked, sitting in the chair opposite Booth, as he sat closer to Brennan.

Brennan picked up her paper and wrote something down, lifting it to Hannah's view she laughed. "Between the new case, and worrying about you, I haven't seen him more than two hours alone since Christmas." She said, sounding humored, though Brennan sensed threads of jealousy in her tone.

The easiness of the visit was typical, though there was an ever present humming of tension that also filled the room, and it was only exacerbated by the sudden clearing of Brennan's throat as she attempted to speak. "Booth." She croaked, her voice moving in more directions than one, as he looked to see her serious expression pointed directly to him. "I have something for you." She said, turning to her side, she opened the drawer on the small table beside her, and pulled out the package that he had seen at her apartment, the gift that he had expected to have been his Christmas gift on that day he couldn't bear to see her lying half dead in the hospital. Her eyes flicked to Hannah, and then back to her partner, as she continued. "I'm leaving." She said, watching his eyes widen, and his jaw drop just slightly.

"What do you mean you're leaving? You're not going anywhere, Bones." He said, his voice clearly defensive.

"Seeley, let her talk." Hannah replied, noting Brennan's grateful glance before she closed her eyes as if she had a headache.

"What do you mean you're leaving, Bones?" He said, trying to calm his tone, though it just sounded like a statement that he didn't expect to be true. He wanted reasons, details. He wanted to know if there was a way to stop her before he even knew where she was going. "Where are you going?" He said, immediately switching directions. His defense mechanism had nearly immediately turned to acceptance, though her words were not something he accepted at all. "What do you mean?" He said again.

"Seeley, just give her a second." Hannah replied.

Brennan leaned forward again and pulled an envelope from the small drawer, handing it over to him as she placed it on the box in his hands. "This explains it all." She said in her voiceless whisper. "All of it."

"Bones." He said softly.

"I need time to recover, Booth."

"You can recover here."

"No." She shook her head.

"Don't leave me." He said, not caring to catch himself, he watched Brennan's eyes lock on his, and he didn't want to let it go.

"I'm not going far. I'm not going for too long. I need to recover, and I can't do it here."

"I don't understand." He whispered.

"It's all in there." She said. "And you don't need me. You have Hannah, she'll take care of you." Brennan said in her whispery voice as she held his hand. "I'm going with Russ tomorrow. I'll be safe, you don't have to worry, and I'll come back. My lungs need time to heal, my ankle needs time…" The look on her face spoke the unspoken 'heart needs time to heal'. He could see it in her eyes and it made his chest ache.

"You're sure that's what you need?" Booth asked, holding the box in his hands, he held her eyes.

"I'm sure." She nodded, closing her eyes for a moment, she opened them to his gaze, as strong and as understanding as she had ever known them to be, before her exhaustion from speaking caught up with her. She closed her eyes and took a slow breath. "Thank you." She whispered.


	19. My Decision

**A/N- I hope that you are all enjoying the story, and I just wanted to thank you all for your fantastic comments thus far. This chapter is much longer than most, and though I apologize for my verbose display of prose, there was absolutely no other way for me to post this particular chapter. **

**It was all or nothing. **

**Several things need to be said, however, before you continue, and I appreciate it if I could have your ear (eyes) for a moment. Please look past the words to the meanings. Please don't focus on just one thing. Please let me know if you like something/don't like something. Please don't focus on the ending of this chapter. There is still more story to be told, and I would like it if you could please take your time with this chapter. Read it twice, three times if you need to. Also note, that the italics are Brennan's letter to Booth, and the days are marked with appropriate dates. After you read the update once, it might be easier for you to fully comprehend Brennan's words, if you read the letter as one entity.**

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I think that's all for now, I'll let you get to reading. Please enjoy.

PJ. (oh... and... Thnx4theencouragement... you know who ya'll are! )

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* * *

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**January 7**

It had been three days since Brennan had been released from the hospital, the last time he saw her being the day that she had given him his Christmas gift, and the letter that he was now holding in his hand. He stared at the envelope, the name on the front taunting him like a child on a playground, daring him to open it, daring him to read its contents, daring him to break the self imposed silence that he had given this entire situation. He could hear the taunt in each movement of his thumb over the off white envelope, sealed tightly with his partner's kiss, tightly and securely. His fingernail caught on the edge of the envelope's flap, where a tiny tear could be seen forming, and he held his own, setting the envelope back to the table with a flat palm.

Now his eyes traveled to that box, the Christmas gift that he had held on the night he found out about her accident, her pain. It was the box that was so tenderly placed within the branches of her Christmas tree, and displayed that simple note atop it, proclaiming that they'd always be partners. He stared at the box for a shorter time than he had the envelope, thinking that he could just stand up and walk away again, just as he had each time he tried to convince himself to open it, finding that he was just too angry, or perhaps afraid to venture such a thing.

To take his mind from the package, he picked up the envelope again, the full weight of the paper within was enough to cause his stomach to twist relentlessly. He knew that Brennan could be loquacious and very blunt when she had time to sit down and think about what she was writing. He also knew that she had plenty of time to think while recovering in the hospital. His fingernail scratched at the edge of the envelope's flap, and a larger tear appeared, as he felt his heart pound harder at the site of the neatly folded paper inside. He knew that he had to leave for work in a short time, but the energy that the letter held was far too much for him to resist any longer.

He slipped his finger to the hole in the flap, and gently slid it across, listening to the sound of the tearing paper as he worked at the crease and separated the two sides of the envelope. The scent of the paper was a mixture of sterility and her, and though she wasn't allowed to wear perfume because of her impaired breathing, the thought of her still brought to him the memory of her scent, the softness of her touch, her breath, her…

He swallowed hard and pulled the paper from the confines of the envelope, quickly unfolding it, he was greeted with her delicate scrawling handwriting. He always thought it was funny that her handwriting was more legible than any other doctor that he had ever known. He laughed nervously to himself, as he attempted to focus on her words.

* * *

_Booth,_

_Before I go into any specific details as to my decision, I want to make it very clear that the circumstances surrounding my sickness and subsequent injuries have nothing to do with you. You were not the one to infect me with bacterial pneumonia; you were not the one who attacked me the morning of Christmas. Therefore, logically, none of these things involve you, and you are not to blame._

_However, my decision to take some time off in order to recover, regroup, and recuperate from my injuries and illnesses, and my ultimate decision to do these things away from you, and my home, have everything to do with you._

_I will start by stating the obvious, and feel free to stop reading this letter at your leisure, if it makes you uncomfortable to read the things that I have contained within it. The obvious thing that I'd like to point out, is that I am well aware of the fact that you love me. I know this is true for many reasons, the most obvious being your reaction to my injuries, your need to protect me, the pain in your face when I am in pain, whether it be emotional or physical. I understand that you love me, and I accept that love for what it is, the love of a family member who claims to hurt when I hurt, the love of a brother who wants only for me to be protected from the dangers of life, and our job. I also see it as the love of a friend, who is well aware of the trials and tribulations of my life, and has managed to keep those secrets from others with no selfish undertones. I appreciate your love, and accept your love for what it is, and what it always will be in my heart, and I accept that I will never be in your heart as Hannah is. I accept that, and while I may state that I am moving on, it has been difficult. I think that this time apart will be helpful for both of us to heal._

* * *

He heard her feet before he heard her voice, and the moment he heard either, the letter was folded and flat down on the table, his palms against her words.

"Seeley?" Hannah said, walking around him, she saw a look on his face she didn't recognize. Was it defiance? Guilt? Regret? She watched him closely, and his eyes failed to meet hers, instead, they focused across the room at perhaps the phone on the side table.

"Yeah?"

"You didn't come to bed last night." She said softly, sitting beside him, she rubbed his back softly, lovingly.

"I really wasn't tired. We finished up the case yesterday, and I just was a little wired." He replied. His thoughts were actually on the trip he made to his office after arresting the police officer who was responsible for the death of their victim. Investigating the murder of anyone was difficult enough as it is, but it always hit him just a little harder when it turns out the murderer was on the other side of a badge. Nothing grated Booth's nerves more than when someone in a position of power used it in a way that could only be described as evil. He couldn't think of anything that even came close to the anger he felt when that happened.

Typically after a case, he'd go to Founding Father's and have a drink or two with his partner, though he had realized that it had been occurring less often, it was still a pastime that he described as 'theirs.' It was something that they always did in a way to toast another mark on their side of the cosmic balance sheet. It was something that he was going to miss, another something that he realized he had been negligent to recently.

Instead of the bar, he had gone to his office, finished his paperwork, and sipped at a paper cup full of scotch that had been at the bottom of his desk drawer for longer than he could remember. He had come home and crashed on the couch just a couple of hours before he found himself sitting at the table having a staring contest with two inanimate objects that he couldn't find the strength or power in himself to reveal the contents of.

He heard her voice again, stern in his ear as if she had said his name several times, and he wouldn't have been surprised if she had. His head turned to her, and finally they made eye contact.

"Did you open the letter?" She asked.

He wondered for a moment what she was hiding behind her curiosity. Was it genuine, or was the glimmer of jealousy that he heard in her voice real and not just a figment of his imagination? He had no answers for his internal questions, and thought for a moment that perhaps his lack of sleep was causing him to be paranoid, he let a sad smile grace his lips, as he simply nodded.

"What did it say?"

He paused again, her instinctual curiosity as a reporter obviously getting the best of her, but he wasn't surprised that she wondered, since his hand had not left the paper on the table for a moment, and his grip was tight against it. He slid it toward his chest, and lifted it between his fingers, looking at the folded piece of paper, he looked to her. "She wanted to tell me not to feel guilty."

"She knows you well." Hannah replied, her words were simple, and he knew that was all she meant by them. They weren't loaded with hidden meaning, they weren't dripping with questions and the need for answers, it was just a simple statement.

"Yes." He replied, noting to himself the spring trap that he had just set up, that one word was like setting a mouse trap down and pulling back the metal spring, the only thing keeping it from snapping closed was a small wire bar held in place, and the only thing keeping him from snapping, was that folded piece of paper in his hand. "I have to go to work." He said, lifting the paper to his chest, he slipped it into his jacket pocket and stood up. Hannah stood up as well and looked him up and down.

"You haven't showered yet."

"Right." He said, his eyes flashing to the side for a moment, he gave a slight smile. "Shower, then work." He said. He leaned forward and dropped a kiss on her cheek. "Have a good day." He said, turning around, he made his way toward the bedroom.

"I love you." Hannah called, watching him walk through the door to the bedroom, and he tossed an automatic echo into the air, devoid of emotion, though he truly meant it in his heart.

Booth showered and dressed, and made his way toward the office with no music to amuse him, no talk radio or phone calls, just the sound of the road beneath his tires, and the occasional sound of a siren in the distance. He arrived at the office and touched his breast pocket, feeling the taught strength of the envelope and letter in his pocket as he pressed it against his chest, and climbed from the SUV. His eyes flickered to the seat beside him, his throat suddenly dry as he slammed his car door and walked quickly toward the elevator.

Just as he sat down in his office chair, he reached his hand into his pocket and pulled the now folded letter from within its warm nest against his body. He placed it on his desk in front of him and flattened it with his hand, running his finger along the now present crease in its center. He rubbed his finger across it and slipped his thumb into the envelope to pull the paper out, just as his phone rang.

Setting his palm down on the letter, he lifted the phone to his ear with his other hand, and gruffly stated his greeting. After a moment, the irritated twang of Caroline Julian burrowed into his ear as she informed him of the Gravedigger's appeal. He was requested as lead on the transport, and he needed to arrange a Psychologist to be on hand. With a quick response in the affirmative, and a request for the weekend to prepare, Booth set the phone on its receiver with a resounding sigh.

Things were changing and happening around him despite the contents of that envelope, despite the location of his partner. He knew that he needed to carry on, he needed to find his stride in his world once again, he needed to heal. He needed to heal, when all he really wanted was for things to go back to the way they should be. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his stomach twisting again as he felt the bile rising to his throat. Heather Taffett always made him feel just a bit nauseas for what he had put his partner through, what he had done to break her, to change her, to hurt her. Her name alone was enough to cause a visceral reaction deep in his gut, and this instance was no different.

He moved his hand and felt the paper beneath it, the envelope and letter, and could feel himself calming when he thought of her words. He thought of her voice, and how it would sound if she were speaking what she had written in the letter. He didn't hear the sickness in the voice in his head, and he didn't hear the coldness that others heard. He heard Temperance Brennan. He heard her voice, and when he pulled the letter from the envelope and smoothed it against the desk again, he took to her words, let them melt in his mind, and listened to the voice that he knew.

* * *

_I want to make it clear that I am not leaving forever, nor will I be out of reach for conversation, or friendship. I am not leaving the country, I am not running away. I will be spending some time with my family. Perhaps it will be a couple of weeks, perhaps a month, it will depend solely on my rate of recovery, and though I am certain that I will enjoy the time off away from work, I will most assuredly miss it. I will take this time to recover, to work on my next book, and to contemplate my future in a clear, uninterrupted way. I've rented a small cottage on the beach, not far from where Russ and Amy live, for I don't wish to disrupt their family with my presence, though I look forward to spending time with my nieces, and brother, and his wife._

_Through the many years that we have spent together, there have been many opportunities for lessons of life that go with any relationship. Together we have been through more situations than most people who have been together for a lifetime. You have both challenged, and taught me many lessons including that family is important, under any circumstances, and though the people that you consider to be family may not be related by genetics, they are related by kinetics. Kinetic energy by definition is the energy of motion. Any object in motion is defined as using kinetic energy, and in a metaphorical sense, you have taught me that it is our family that keeps us moving in life. Those around us that push us to learn and challenge ourselves are by definition our family. I thank you for helping me to realize this, and though I admit that I feared for a short time about how things would fare after you had moved on, I am happy that you have found a new member of your family, someone who can help you continue to keep moving in your future plans as things change around us._

* * *

**January 10**

Every time he closed his eyes he saw the same thing, the body of Heather Taffet lying on the ground headless and unmoving, still chained with the prison shackles, growing cold and bloodless with each passing second as her brain matter was picked meticulously from his colleague.

His hands still trembled as he sat at his desk, his phone still ringing from the numerous people wanting to have an account of what happened, wanting to hear it from him, wanting to know how this could happen, and who could have done it.

One second, her head was there, the next second it wasn't. It took no more than the blink of an eye, and after he got past the fact that this woman was dead, it was then that he could focus on suspects. He could think of many people who wanted Heather Taffet dead. The Gravedigger was a foe in many circles, circles that involved him, involved the team at the Jeffersonian, involved his partner, and his partner's father.

Booth paused as he sat at his desk, trying desperately not to tap his fingers against the surface of the desk, he felt the weight of the letter in his pocket. He hadn't read any more since he had been interrupted the last time, since he had begun his preparations for the Gravedigger's appeal. He had been busy, but never kept that letter farther than his breast pocket at any given time. He pulled the letter from his pocket and stared at the carefully scrawled name on the front, immediately feeling a sense of panic rise through him.

It could have been Max. Max Keenan would do anything to protect his family, to protect the things that his family held dear to her. If there was the possibility for an appeal, for her to walk, there was a possibility that Max was behind her assassination. He picked up the phone and dialed out to the number that sat beside his rolodex. The moment Russ answered the phone, he knew that there was a possibility that this phone call wouldn't go as well as he hoped. "Russ, its Booth."

"What do you want?" Russ said into the line. He didn't sound angry, just slightly irritated when he answered the phone. "She's not here."

"I am not looking for Bones." He said, pausing for just a moment. "Is your father there?"

"Dad? What do you want Dad for?" He asked, when Booth heard another man's voice in the background, he felt himself relax slightly.

"Russ, just let me talk to Max."

"Dad's not here." He snapped, when suddenly there was a shuffle on the other end of the line, and a disgruntled sound from Russ as another voice trickled through the phone line.

"We heard about the Gravedigger on the news." Max said. "You're alright?"

"I'm fine." Booth replied, allowing a long pause for a moment, he didn't know exactly what to say.

"I didn't do it, Booth."

"I see that." Booth replied. "I won't even bother putting you on the suspect list." He said, literally feeling his blood pressure dropping slowly.

"But I can't say that I'm sad to see her go." Max added, listening to the silence on the line, he could feel the words that were left unsaid in the silence of his pause. "She's doing just fine, Booth."

"Thank you." Booth replied, and it was then that he realized the real reason he was calling. It wasn't to ensure that Max could be pulled from the suspect list, and it wasn't to ensure that he was not involved in the assassination of Heather Taffet. The real reason was as obvious as the paper beneath Booth's fingertips, and he knew it. He knew that his grateful 'thank you', wasn't necessarily for the news that Brennan was fine, but a silent appreciation that she was being well taken care of in his absence, and even Max knew that.

"I will let her know what has happened. I'll make sure she knows that you're safe."

"Thank you, Max." He said, allowing the sigh of relief that he had felt coming to finally be released, and his fingers stopped tapping relentlessly on his desk. He hung up the phone and watched his hand tremble on the receiver; he closed his eyes and attempted to get a hold on himself.

Moving his hand on his desk, he felt the rough crease on the center of the envelope beneath his resting hand, and opened his eyes to see the envelope in front of him. He noted that the paper was becoming worn from his constant folding and unfolding, but couldn't bear to keep it from his reach at all times. He gently pulled the folded letter from the envelope and re-introduced himself to his partner's prose, as he melted back into her words and into some semblance of sanity in these recent stress inducing events.

* * *

_You have challenged me and taught me on truth versus respect, and that though I have certain beliefs and know certain things to be true in their purest form, that it is not always the best to identify those things out loud. Sometimes, stating the obvious can be hurtful; sometimes it can reveal a truth about someone that they don't need to hear at that moment, but taken aside and taught that lesson in private. You and I share many secrets, secrets that I have learned that can only be shared between people with a genuine and true trust for one another. I have never shared with anyone many of the experiences that you and I have come across, and very rarely do I ever reveal anything to anyone about our time together. My past has always been gently tucked away in a place that was dark and secluded. I felt that if I didn't talk of it, then it didn't exist. You made me understand that if I can trust someone enough, it is alright to reveal these truths. You taught me that it is necessary to express my feelings freely, to not fear judgment. You taught me that I have hidden within myself for so long, that it was impossible for me to relate to those not inside my circle of friends and colleagues. You opened me up to a world where a belief is not to be feared or disavowed, but understood. _

_We have stated in the past, that what is between us, is ours, and I believe that to be something that I treasure with all of my heart, and will always treasure for years to come. I have stated that I love you, Booth, and I don't want to let that harm your relationship with Hannah in any way, shape, or form. I just felt that you should hear it from me in a letter, rather than misinterpret anything that I could possibly say in the very oftentimes awkward way that I speak. Writing is something that I seem to be very good at, as it allows me to think about what I'm going to say before I say it, and you are very aware of how important thinking is to me._

* * *

**January 13**

As Booth reached out to close the door to the interrogation room, his mind went directly to the man that was implicated by their suspect just minutes before. Jacob Ripkin Broadsky. He called Sweets and Caroline, telling them that he had another potential suspect and moved quickly toward the bullpen and his office so that he could do some serious thinking on this.

He could feel his adrenaline coursing through his veins at the thought of a fellow sniper taking target practice on people, and though his cause may have been just in his mind, or perhaps incited by greed, Booth was intent on catching this guy.

He thought of right after the sniper had taken his shot, and when he had gone to Sweets' office to check on him. He couldn't help but feel tightness in his chest over what the psychologist was feeling at that point. The young man was not an agent, he was never in the military, and though he is a doctor, his patients were always alive when they spoke to him, not like the patients of his partner. The people that Booth worked with were either already dead, or had some connection to someone who had died. He had seen death in many forms, seen murder through the eyes of many people, and still, even now, he felt the sickening taste of blood in his mouth at the thought of someone dying at the hands of someone who felt they were above and beyond the law.

Booth remembered his first kill vividly, he remembered the first murder he had witnessed, remembered the feeling of what it was like to have the life rush from the body of a person that he cared about, someone that he tried to save but couldn't. He knew what it was like to be a soldier, a father, a friend. He knew what it was like to see the blood drain from a person's face when they learned of a loved one's death. Booth knew that Sweets was not like him, for he was still young and hadn't seen the evil that Booth had seen in his life, so when Taffet's head exploded for all to see, directly beside the psychologist, he knew that the young man wouldn't be able to shrug it off easily.

When he had stepped into his office to check on him, Booth could see that he was rattled, a sniper's bullet ripping through the life and body of the person he had been standing next to just moments earlier, as blood and brain matter dripped from him as he stood in shock. Booth was surprised that he was still able to stand after seeing such a think unfold in front of him, a lesser man would be traumatized beyond consolation.

As Booth stepped into his own office, he thought of the many things that he had been through in his life, the kills that he had racked up as a sniper, the pain that he had brought to the families of people he didn't even know. He knew that as a sniper he was doing his duty for the safety of millions of Americans, and he was proud to serve his country. But each life that he had taken took a small piece of him, each person that was ripped from earth, ripped a piece of his own sanity. Booth had learned early on that a sniper couldn't take their work home with them. He accepted that a person that took the lives of others didn't get to live a normal life with the knowledge of what they had done. But still, he tried to live a normal life, taking all of the heavy baggage from the pain he caused others; he packed it away in the depths of his memory, and tried desperately to fill in those empty spaces in front of it with some semblance of normalcy.

When he sat at his desk, he reached for the pen in his pocket, hearing the crisp crackle of the letter in his pocket. He had been forced to pause his reading of it when Caroline had stepped into his office not soon after he had talked to Max, and with his pen, he pulled the folded envelope out once again. His thoughts went to his partner, the vision of her lying in that bed in the hospital on Christmas night.

He had shared so many secrets with her, so many things that belonged to just them, and it nearly killed him to know that all of those things that he had told her would have died with her. She was his best friend, a vessel of knowledge and perfection that never judged, but simply spoke the truth. If she had died on that night, his secrets would have died with her, and he would be left with nothing. With no pause, he pulled the paper from the envelope and spread the words out in front of him. He tried to block what could, and what should have been, with what was, because that's all he had right now.

* * *

_I wanted to vocalize to you how proud of you I am that you were able to enter into a relationship that you feel is solid with a woman that you can be assured loves you as much as you love her. You have told me in the past that if you're going to be in love with someone, and describe it with them, if you're willing to share a sexual experience, that you should be absolutely sure that you are in love with that person. I hope to find the confidence to believe in that love in a relationship in my future, for you have shown me that love is more than just crappy sex, love is more than being something that you're not in a relationship that you have thrown yourself into. Love is something that you allow to grow out of the need to be with someone that cares for you. You taught me that love is not ephemeral, and that it comes in more forms than just purely physical. Love is shown when you look at a person, when you speak to a person, when you tell that person that you love them, as you so often exclaim about Hannah. You are a lucky man, Booth, to have found someone that you are comfortable to share your heart with, it is a very brave thing for you. Personally, I fear love more than anything else in the world. I fear feeling it, and giving it. I fear expressing it, for there is always the possibility that it will not be expressed in return. There is always the possibility that one will find that the rush of emotions that they felt was not love at all, but pure infatuation._

* * *

"Seeley, this is not a good idea." Hannah said as Booth loaded his gun and placed it in the holster.

"I'm just going out to talk to him. I can talk to him about this. I need to get there before it gets dark." Booth said, checking his pocket to make sure his wallet and badge were both there. His hand instinctively touched his breast pocket, he could feel the folded envelope inside.

"I'm not going to let you go." Hannah said, touching his arm, he looked up at her with a glare.

"I'm not asking for your permission." He said, shaking his head angrily. "Now let go of my arm."

"What would Temperance say if she knew you were going to do this?" Hannah asked as Booth stopped, ripping his arm from hers.

"Bones isn't here! Bones doesn't get to make this decision for me! It's my decision, mine!" Booth shouted, noticing that people in the bullpen were looking through the glass door, he lowered his voice. "I am doing my job, Hannah. You knew when you got into this with me that my job was dangerous. Your job is dangerous too. Do you see me following you around on your stories, nagging you about danger?"

"You tell me when something is too dangerous, Seeley. You tell me when I should back off. You're too close to this, you need to back off." She said, feeling tears prickling her eyes as she shook her head.

"I will not be swayed with emotional blackmail, Hannah. Don't come in here and cry at me and expect me to change my mind. If you want to be supportive, then great… be supportive, if you can't back me up here on this one little thing, then maybe you're looking to be in a relationship with a doctor or a lawyer… you know, someone who keeps better hours, someone who doesn't care if you lead them around like a lost puppy!" He snapped angrily, feeling the spring starting to slip.

"I'm not crying! I'm just angry." She growled.

"Well, be angry somewhere else. I have a job to do. I have to catch this guy before he kills someone else." Booth said, walking past her, he stepped toward the door. He turned around and glared at her. "And for your information, Bones would back me up on this if she were here. She would know that I needed to do this, she would just know. She knows." He said angrily. He watched the look of realization cross the woman's face, the surprise that slowly spread from her eyes to her slacked jaw as Booth sucked in a deep breath, tears beginning to form in his eyes as his throat closed slightly. "What the hell did you think, Hannah? Did you think I just keep her around for show? You think I just picked her up at the museum and dusted her off… dragged her everywhere I went because I like the look of a beautiful woman following me around?" He asked, swinging open the door to his office.

Hannah was speechless. He had all but screamed the words of love of his partner toward her, and she was speechless. She tried to find a word, a sound, an angry growl, but nothing lifted to the surface. His glare was on her, and she could feel its piercing gaze as he held the door open.

"If you don't mind." He said, biting back the guilt he was feeling for his silent confession. "I have a job to do here."

She realized then that it had always been there, his love for Temperance. It had always been that one thing that held him back. He always spoke of her in such high regard, that Hannah had always seen it as respect. He always went to her aid, and Hannah thought it was simply his protective nature. He always fought with her, and he thought he was simply stubborn. He always fought for her, and Hannah though that it was just his honor. But the moment she saw his resentment toward her, that visceral, raw, intense resentment he had for Temperance for leaving him, that was the moment the truth came crashing down around her.

She straightened her back and closed her mouth, sucking in a deep breath as she looked him directly in the eyes. "Goodbye, Seeley." She managed to say in all but a whisper, she lifted her nose, and glared as she walked angrily and purposefully from his office.

There was nothing else to say.

* * *

_I have accepted and I am comforted in knowing that you care about me in a way that could include the word 'love', as I have found that I too can use that simple word in such a way as to describe my feelings for you. I do believe on some level, that our love for one another is born out of necessity. Our job together is to protect and keep one another alive In the field, and when you trust someone unconditionally, that feeling can often be confused with a feeling of love. Adrenaline and other endorphins are produced when put in danger, and people often grow close out of the experiences like those you and I have experienced together. I thank you for caring enough about me, to take care of me when I am in need, and I don't wish for you to feel guilt for how things have come to this point. _

_You and I have become very close in recent years, Booth. There are times when I can look into your eyes, and I feel as if you're speaking to me without the use of words. You say that you should have known the morning that I called that something was wrong, and I think that it would be incorrect to assume that. Please don't harbor guilt for that day, and this situation. It was my responsibility to voice my pain, not your responsibility to assume that I needed help._

* * *

Booth's mind was racing as he ran quickly through the woods, every step a little closer to the target. He found himself slipping and falling over both himself and the branches and rocks that stood in his way. He ran across stream beds and threw himself down a hill of dirt and thorny bushes that scratched his skin on contact as he felt the earth beneath him as he tried to regain his footing. He tumbled to his feet and just when he thought he had gotten to Broadsky, he tumbled painfully to the ground, catching himself with his hands.

He pulled himself up and crossed the small stream, his breathing labored as he made his way as quickly as he could through the forest, his feet pounding into the mud and rocks as he chased after Broadsky. He could almost reach out and touch the man until he felt his foot hit a rock just the wrong way. His ankle twisted as he stepped and he felt shots of pain up his leg as he was blinded by a white pain that radiated through his body. Out of breath and out of strength, he forced himself to keep a steady pace with the other man. He struggled through the brush to a clearing, his ankle throbbing with pain despite the adrenaline that was speeding through his bloodstream.

Grunting in pain, he stumbled after the other man as the light of the sun blinded him, and his pace was slowed by the pain in his leg. Booth noticed a camper hiding in tall grass to his side, though he was still pursuing Broadsky, he filed away the knowledge of it in the back of his mind as he tried to remain upright In his pursuit. Suddenly, the impact of an explosion sent him hurtling through the air as flames and heat from the blast slammed him into the ground, the pain in his shoulder intense as he tried to catch his breath from the searing heat that was entering his lungs. The sound of glass breaking and the sound of the explosion slammed angrily into his eardrums, and the heat from the flames burned his skin. He battled the pain of the fire and his dislocated shoulder, along with the throbbing of his twisted ankle as he landed against the rock hard ground. He was slammed out of the shock of it all by the sound of twisted metal and glass sprinkling the ground around him as he grunted in agony. Lying on his back, he pulled his gun, looking up to see if he could spot the man he was pursuing, the man who had managed to pervert the art of the sniper, the man who had taken advantage of his skills for what appeared to be monetary gain.

The pain he felt was only numbed by the adrenaline pumping through his blood, as he rolled to his side and breathlessly struggled to his knees. His ears rang relentlessly, the hissing of the fire behind him a reminder of how that ringing came to be, and he pointed his weapon in the direction of the trees, in the direction of Broadsky as he walked out in front of him.

He faltered, his weapon pointed at the man while the pain coursing through his body made his shot unclear, his eyes still blurry from both pain, and smoke from the explosion. Broadsky dared him to take the shot, his eyes serious and unwavering as Booth glared angrily, his gun pointed to the man's heart as he groaned and grunted in pain. And he said the words that reverberated through his mind again and again, almost as if it were echoing off the trees.

"You never could go for the kill. Not if there was any doubt."

It was those words that stopped him, those words that made him grunt and lose his focus, because Broadsky was correct. He couldn't take the shot if there was doubt, he couldn't take the risk that he was wrong, he wasn't the gambler that he had thought he was. When he looked up and saw Broadsky disappearing into the woods, he knew it was over for now, and as much as he wanted to stop the other man, he knew that he was beat. He felt the surge of pain overtaking him as he found himself alone now in the woods. He pushed himself forward and cried out in pain as he fell forward and landed on his chest, the dirt and rocks beneath his skin scratching him as he let out a guttural yell of anger.

His voice echoed in the trees, scared some birds that had been roosting in the trees above him, but with the crackling of the burning trailer behind him, behind the violent ringing in his ears, and beyond the pain he felt in his ankle and shoulder. Seeley Booth heard that last domino fall, and to him, it was the loudest.

* * *

_I am aware of the distance that we have forged between us in recent months, and though I don't accept it as being a comfortable situation, I understand it is necessary in order for you to distance yourself from our past relationship. In an attempt to heal from both my physical and emotional scars of my illnesses and personal realizations, I feel that it is important for me to take this time and space away from those things that are most important to me, so that I may heal in a way that is best for me. My brother will have my contact information once I am settled, and you are welcome to visit or call at your own convenience. Please don't get the impression that I am running from anything, for it would be painful for me to think that I've caused you any grief. We are partners, in the strongest sense of the word, and I will always have your back. You are the most important person in my life Booth, and I am very certain that despite our own personal growth, you will remain that way. It is time for me to take what you have taught me about family and love, and use it in my own way, in my own time, and move on. Thank you for taking the time to read my words, and please know that there is no blame on your shoulders for what I am doing here. This is my decision, it is for me._

_Love always._

_Temperance. (Bones)_

* * *

His arm in a sling, his ankle bandaged and set, Booth found himself once again sitting at the table in his apartment staring at the gift from his partner. Beside him sat a crumpled note, a faint goodbye of less than twenty words from a woman he had shared several months of his life with. Her belongings were gone, and the only indication that she was ever there was the faint scent of her perfume in the air. In front of him, unfolded and flat was the letter that Brennan had written him. It was worn from its constant folding and unfolding, though the words on its paper were never more legible. Her sentiments were tender, sincere and to a point, she was correct, and his eyes traveled to the other objects on the table. His gun was inches from his hands, having been thoroughly cleaned from the incident in the woods, it was ready to be put away in its locked box, though something made him leave it beside him on the table. His phone was settled on the table as well, an immediate lifeline to the one person that he wanted to talk to right now, but found it impossible to take that chance.

Not if there was any doubt.

He closed his eyes as he reached hand out, his finger dancing over the paper on the gift, he felt his stomach twist slightly, and he sucked in a deep breath. His eyes flashed to the gun, and with a split decision made, he grabbed hold of the package with both hands and quickly pulled the wrapping from the box. The box beneath the wrapping was wooden, aged and a bit splintered, there were no markings to indicate what was inside. He could smell the scent of his partner on the wrapping, and could feel his heart beating faster as he opened the lid of the box.

Looking inside, his breath was nearly taken away by its contents, his eyes lightening, though his heart suddenly felt heavy. There was a small note inside, as his fingers slid slowly over its contents, and tears came to his eyes as he read, unable to keep his sadness at bay. His eyes flickered to the letter, and the box, and to the phone. Tears were in his eyes, and his throat was dry as he tried to get control of himself, when suddenly he couldn't take it anymore. With a swift swing of his hand, he slammed his fist into the table and let out a pain filled grunt. He stood up on his bad ankle and nearly fell, grabbing his crutches he gritted his teeth against the pain, grabbed the gun into his hand, and made his way toward his bedroom, and the sound of his slamming door echoed through his apartment, and the thoughtful gifts of his friend and partner lay discarded on his kitchen table.


	20. Heartbeats Are Just Heartbeats

The soft sound of the ocean rolling against the sand outside was the first thing that Brennan heard when she opened her eyes to the dark and unfamiliar room. She listened to the gentle lapping of the water and wind combining, and waited for sleep to take her again. There was heaviness in her chest again, a strong indication that it was time for another breathing treatment, but her exhaustion simply forced her to remain in the bed, staring into the darkness blankly, hoping that the weight would lift from her chest by itself. She rolled to her side, but felt the tightness shift with her, the pain in her chest was a bit too much and she coughed once, twice, forcing herself to sit up. Each deep breath was met with fluid that had accumulated in her lungs tickling her bronchioles, she coughed and tried to relax, lifting the bottle from beside her bed, and groaned in irritation as she looked at the floor, and sipped at the water to calm her tickled throat. Her eyes then lifted to the clock and the time stared out at her, half past five AM.

Muttering to herself, Brennan pulled at her crutch at the bedside stand and lifted herself to her good foot, the hard cast on her other foot smacked unceremoniously at the base of the bed and she pulled herself forward across the hardwood floor of the bedroom. She pulled her robe around herself, carefully wrapping the tie around her tightly, the fluffy material enveloping her, though it somehow felt empty as well. Yawning, she attempted to reestablish her focus as she pulled her crutch back under her arm, and briefly thought of the sleepless nights that she had been having, despite the peaceful respite that the oceanfront house offered her.

She paused for a moment at the large picture window that looked out onto the beach, her eyes focused on the loving waves of the ocean for a moment, before she turned and moved slowly across the room toward the door. Her solitary time here in the beach house had been quiet and peaceful. She had left her phone on silent, far from her bed and her resting places in order to avoid her habit of constantly checking for messages. The time alone here had been used to rest, recover, and begin to write again, enjoying the solitude that the ocean brought. The beaches were always silent, the occasional person walking down the sand could be seen, though the winter months were always desolate for the resort island. Emerald Isle, North Carolina was the perfect place to be for peace and quiet in the winter, a mere seven hours from home, yet only a short drive from her brother's home in Morehead City.

Brennan had rented a beach home on the ocean, an assertion that was naturally met with argument from both her brother and father, who insisted she stay with Russ, Amy, and the girls. Brennan insisted not, stating that she needed her own space, her own time, her own means to stretch out and relax, and that she would be available for dinner, and light family activities at her convenience, but preferred to be left alone. It was three bedrooms, and far too large for just herself, but large enough to accommodate her family if they were to want to visit for the night. Hardwood floors and an expansive living area, it was equipped with a 72 inch plasma screen television that had remained off since she had arrived. The home was on stilts, naturally, as most beach homes were on the North Carolina coast, and with large, expansive picture windows, the beach was in full view, with no reason to even bother turning on the television set.

She moved toward the stairs with relative ease, knowing that she was ready for her next breathing treatment, and a round of other medications that she felt were slowing her down, but understood were necessary. The crutch was pulled into her hand and carefully eased herself down the wooden stairs, using the banister to guide her carefully down the steps. Once she reached solid ground on the downstairs floor, the trip was made easier. She stepped close to the table that held her medications, spread out with her nebulizer for her breathing treatments, a virtual pharmacy and lab laid out in her living space, ensuring aid to her every whim and medical need.

Carefully, she sat down and administered her breathing treatment, staring over at the kitchen as she contemplated getting a mug of tea to ease her burning lungs, and ever working mind. She knew that it would be silly to even think of trying to go back to sleep. Sleep was rare enough, but to force it this early in the morning would make for a miserable day of exhaustion, so when her treatment ended, she rested. Her eyes focused on the clock above the sink, noting that it was now quarter after six. With a resigned sigh, she noted that her medicinal ritual had taken longer than it typically had in the past.

She pulled her robe tighter, feeling the chill of the room. Standing up with the aid of her crutch again, it was an easy trek toward the kitchen. As she passed the counter, her eyes moved over the small wooden box that sit there, its lid closed for now, but its presence warming her heart. Stopping at the counter her hands found the corners of the box and lifted it into her hands, flipping open the tiny latch, she smiled at the contents again, her heart warming at the thought of Parker's concern. She plucked the hockey card from the box and looked at the boy's smiling face as she remembered his words in the hospital, and the warmth of his hug. She admired the photo for a minute or two before gently placing it back in its corner in the box, closing the box securely, the box was then placed carefully onto the counter. She then turned and leaned against the counter for a moment. Her eyes scanned the sink, stove, and the teapot that sit on the burner. Her eyes ventured to the large window above the sink, and watched as the dark sky began its slow change from that shadowy dark, midnight blue, to a color that almost matched her eyes in her most passionate moments, and she focused on the cloudless sky. It took a moment, but she eventually she pulled herself from her wandering mind enough to push herself from the counter and take a wobbling step toward the teapot. She pulled the teapot from the stove and to the sink, where she let the water run for a moment, pouring it into the empty vessel until it was to a suitable level, she set it on the stove and switched the stove on, finding herself lost for a moment in a delicate pause.

She stared at the glowing red of the burner for a moment, her eyes lifting to the sky once again, as she allowed herself to rest against the counter. Her focus traveled from the cerulean of the sky, to the depths of blue in the ocean. The white capped waves dashed about its surface as it rolled to the sand. The sound was peaceful, tranquil, and perfect, a level of peace she wished she could reach, but never felt possible. The sand was nearly glowing with the impending sunrise below the horizon, the darks of the sky becoming lighter with each passing second. She sighed, her eyes glancing to the teapot for a moment, focusing on the gentle rumbling of the pot as it heated at the touch of the burner, and her focus once again went to the water.

It took her a moment, perhaps her mind was cloudy, perhaps she thought it was simply her imagination, but on the sand sat a figure, dark against the sand, the outline becoming more obvious with each passing second. The beach was seldom populated during the warmest hours of the day, so it was surprising to her to see someone braving the mid January breeze of the Atlantic coast. She wondered for a moment, if the person was a homeless person, or perhaps just a lost soul who became lost in a moment between the sand and the ocean, and stopped for some peace of mind. Her thoughts were startled when the teapot whistled, sending her thoughts to the cup that she had forgotten to prepare. She pulled the teapot from its heat source, and placed it on the unheated burner beside it, and commenced with pulling a cup from the cupboard. She reached into the tin canister beside the sink and tugged on a tea bag, placing it solidly within the cup. Her eyes lifted to the window, noting that the figure did not move, and it was still too dark outside to make out anything for certain.

She poured the hot water, and allowed the tea to steep, as she moved carefully on her crutches with the hot liquid across the tile floor. Her socked foot slid across the cool tile and placing the mug on the table by the door, she opened the sliding glass door to the outdoor deck. The gentle morning breeze was a bit brisk, but thankfully not cold, and the darkness seemed to envelop her into its shadows. Her thoughts were drawn immediately to the figure on the sand, a dark lump that seemed motionless, wrapped tightly in a blanket on the beach, alone for the stars to bid their morning adieu to him alone.

She brought the mug of tea to both of her hands, leaning against the wooden rail as the sound of the ocean slammed against the beach in more fervent waves. The constant sound of the waves on the beach indicated the pull of the tides, much like her attention to the lone figure on the beach. She brought her tea to her lips, if only to breathe the healing touch of the steam to her lungs, the berry scent tickled her nostrils, but her eyes remained caught in the darkness of the shadowed figure.

Brennan wished there was an explanation for her interest in the man on the sand, a person she had decided to herself was a man, simply because of the breadth of his shoulders. Wide and strong against the blue of the sky, though slumped slightly in defeat, his head down and shadowed, his body facing away. She stood there for a long time, letting the cool morning breeze wash over her, and though she knew she could feel the prickle of the winter cold surrounding her, she felt a strong force keeping her eyes on this man, her attention rapt and steady as he moved slightly.

His head lifted, and a small gasp escaped her lips, as the familiarity of the man's form flashed through her mind, and she placed her mug on the railing for a moment, as she literally rubbed her eye to ensure she wasn't imagining what she had seen. A wistful smile graced her lips, and for a moment she wished to call out to the figure, call his name and invite him inside, but stopped, knowing that it was just her foolish mind playing tricks, and perhaps even the pain medications she had taken aiding in its trickery. The smile turned to a slight frown, and she swallowed hard as she sucked in a slow, deep breath. She then lifted the tea from the railing and grabbed the crutch in her hand. She tucked it beneath her arm, and slowly made her way back into the warmth of the beach house, away from the cold and darkness of the ocean's wintry winds.

* * *

The cold hand of winter slapped his face angrily, stinging his eyes and lips, pushing the blood to the surface of his face to give his cheeks a light pink complexion. It wasn't as if he cared at this point, for he couldn't feel the cold. His body was covered in a warm sweatshirt, his left arm in a sling beneath it, and his body was wrapped with a heavy wool blanket. His other arm was wrapped securely around his companion, also dressed warmly for the excursion. Parker was cuddled against his father as they sat alone on the beach in the dark of night. The excitement of the adventure his father had promised had faded with his heavy eyelids, and father and son waited quietly for signs of life in the beach house behind them.

When Booth had entered his bedroom and set his gun in its proper place, the metal locked box beside his bed, he was already aware of the task ahead. His decision had been made when he had opened that box from his partner, and there was no going back. With the gun locked away, he prepared himself for his trip. When his bag was packed, he had stood above it staring down, and felt a deep, dark, screaming emptiness in his chest. He knew that he couldn't make the drive alone.

Booth called Rebecca, his voice held a near desperate tone that convinced her to allow Parker to miss school the next day. She knew that Booth was going through a difficult time because of Brennan's illness, and that time with Parker always seemed to help to tame the demons in his mind. It was nearly an hour past Parker's bedtime when Booth picked him up at his mother's house, and with that, the two Booth boys were on their way south toward the beach.

Parker had lasted well into the morning hours, the seven hour drive drawing long and tiring for the boy, but he held fast and kept his father company as far as he could. Eventually he fell prey to the slumber that had been calling his name for quite some time. Nearing morning when they pulled down the drive of the small beach house, he turned his lights off and silenced the car. The address hadn't been hard to find, a piece of paper slipped to him from Max before he had left for North Carolina. Booth had wedged it between his debit card and his driver's license, in the possibility that he would be capable of visiting Brennan, despite her quick retreat to the ocean.

The two men sat in the car for quite a long time, the cool wind of winter sliding up and over the car. Booth could hear the ocean and smiled at the peaceful sound of the waves on the sand, smelling that ocean air through the vent of the car. He pulled a sweatshirt from his bag, glancing to Parker as he stirred, the boy looked up at Booth and yawned, craning his neck to look out the window. He confirmed that they had arrived at their destination, though the sky was dark with night, and the home was quiet and dark as well.

Booth pulled his sweatshirt over his head, tossing his son a warmer set of clothes as well, and grabbed the warm wool blanket from the back seat. They then quietly exited the car and walked carefully down the long pier toward the ocean, where father and son settled on the sand before the expansive body of water. Booth buried his crutch in the sand at his feet and pulled his son to him to keep warm, and as the dawn began to slowly break on the horizon, father and son sit waiting for the day to start.

Their arrival was at nearly five in the morning, and with that came the pre-dawn wisps of wintry wind across Booth's face, guarding his son from the cold of the wind, the cold was punishing but refreshing as well. The sky was dark blue, nearly black, a shade that almost matched his mood, and most assuredly matched his soul right now, so he settled in the sand his eyes on the ocean, and waited patiently as he watched the stars slowly disappear one by one.

Each minute seemed endlessly long. Each heartbeat, each rush of every wave seemed to last forever, and he was fine with waiting. The sky lightened with each forever second, and Parker sit nestled against his chest, sleeping from the exhaustion that his excitement had caused, he was guarded from the cold, and in turn guarded his father from complete loneliness. Booth listened to his son's gentle breathing, mixed with the churning of the waves before him, and the sky began to take on a glow as the sun sit just below the horizon, preparing for its daily presentation. He wondered foolishly for a moment if the sun ever tired of its habitual schedule. Each day rolling over the horizon in a unique, yet predictable way, and each evening slipping from view once again, simply to repeat the same routine again and again. Some days clouds blocked its view, and others the sky was as clear as it was on this day, as clear as knowledge that he had made the correct decision in coming here.

He lifted his head to the horizon, watching the tip of the sun poke from over that line the ocean created. The blues and purples of the skies met and melded with oranges and reds as the heat from the sun and the whispering winds of the atmosphere made passionate love before the wandering voyeurs who dared watch the bright orb present itself to those who were awake to see it. He held his breath, watching the majesty before him just as he saw a bit of sand move beside him. A leg appeared, a cast, and though he was looking straight ahead, the heavenly scent of her was now filling his nostrils. She settled beside him, her body was wrapped in a heavy blanket, her eyes focused on the sky, on the horizon, on the brilliant colors that were presenting themselves in the far reaches of the ocean.

Her crutch was set beside her, and her body was close to his, as he felt the weight of her head as she rested it on his arm lightly. Not a word was passed between them, as he wrapped his good arm around her securely, and pulled her near. Not an utterance of anything traveled the distance that stood between his silence, and her heart, for there was nothing to say when you witness the beauty of a sunrise. Words are just words, heartbeats are just heartbeats, and with the haphazard splashes of color and light that the rising sun leaves in the sky, the only thing left to do, is let it be.


	21. To Die, or To Be Loved

**HI READERS *wave***

**This is another one of those chapters that you may have to read more than once to really drive the point across. Please take your time and savor the words... I've read it again and again to ensure that each point is made, and I do enjoy hearing your honest opinions, thoughts, and feelings on it. I hope you enjoy...**

**PJ. (WINNING)**

* * *

His arm remained around her until the sun pushed completely over the horizon, and her closeness kept him warm. She said nothing for several moments, and it wasn't as if she didn't know what to say, but that she didn't want to break that moment that they had found themselves lingering in. When his hand began to gently rub her arm, she knew that he wanted to get up, but again she held fast to that moment for just ten seconds longer. She sucked in a deep breath, slowly but knew immediately that it was a mistake, for her breath caught in her lungs, and she knew that the silence was about to be broken. She let out a slight gasp, trying to allow the cough to be deceived but found that it was to no avail. She lifted her hand and tried to catch the cough in her hand, hoping that it would be simple and they'd be able to resume their peaceful staring contest with the ocean, but the longer she tried to stave it off, the more forceful the stifled cough threatened to become. Another moment, and the peace was gone, as the barrage of coughs began to escape her lips, she tried to control them, but could hear the wheezing breaths, as he pulled her closer to him.

Each breath brought another cough, and each cough sent a small whimper through her lips, and a begging chant through her mind for her lungs to stop, to just stop. It took several moments, but she was finally able to catch her breath, to soothe her coughs, to fall back into the peaceful place they had once been in. Once the coughs had stopped though, Brennan couldn't help but notice his left arm was under his sweatshirt, hidden from view, and in the light sand beside him was the obvious shadow of a hidden crutch. She pulled back slowly from his embrace, a thousand questions in her eyes, and at the tip of her tongue. He caught her gaze, wandering his eyes and face, and he shook his head.

"We'll talk." He whispered, the first words she had heard from him in far too long, she felt her heart clench in her chest, and though the wheezing in her lungs were quite loud, she was sure that her rapidly beating heart was vying for recognition. Booth shifted slightly, dropping his arm from around her, he leaned down and touched his son's face. "Parker?" He whispered, trying to pull the boy from his slumber without frightening him. "Parks?" He said.

The boy's eyes opened slowly, flickering with a frown, until the sound of the waves reached his ears. He sat up a little and looked out into the ocean, his head turning to look to his father, but was caught by the gaze of another. "Bones." He said, sleepily, a smile on his lips already, when he looked to his father.

"Let's get Bones back to the house." He said, pulling the blanket from around Parker and himself, he revealed the ace bandage around his foot. "The cold weather isn't good for her cold."

Parker rolled to his knees and faced Brennan, moving to her side, he wrapped his arms around her tightly. "I missed you, Bones." Parker said, closing his eyes tightly.

"I missed you too." She whispered, embracing the boy tightly, taking in his hug for as long as she could, before she felt another cough coming on. She tried not to hold it in as she did the first time, but the pressure that Parker was putting on her chest was a bit much for her.

She let out a small cough, and the boy's grip loosened, as he sat back on his knees. "Are you okay, Bones?" He asked, looking up to his father, who had in the time of their hug had gotten to his feet and stood above them.

She nodded her head, and looked up to Booth, as he leaned awkwardly in the sand on his crutch, trying to maintain his balance. "I'm okay." She whispered, half to the boy, and half to his father, she started to shift to her side, attempting to pull herself up, when she felt a hand on her arm. Without a moment for argument, he was pulling her carefully from the sand, holding her tightly as she regained her balance. She turned her head to see that Parker had already pulled her crutch from the sand, and smiled to him gratefully as he tucked it beneath her arm. The boy then turned, and gathered their blankets, and his backpack that had been left on the sand, and slowly, the three of them made their way toward the beach house.

The moment they stepped inside, Parker gaped at the size of the television screen. He turned to his father, who shook his head. "Go rest on the couch." Booth said. "You don't need to watch television right now."

"Aw, Dad…" Parker let out a groan of disappointment, to which his father narrowed his eyes to drive the point across.

"You hardly had any sleep last night, Parker." Booth replied, placing his crutch against the wall and limping with him toward the couch, Parker pulled off his sneakers and socks, as wisps of sand escaped onto the rug, Booth watched as Parker lay down, and he glanced to Brennan as he touched the blanket on the back of the couch. She nodded her head and Booth lifted the blanket up, covering the boy with it. "Just a little rest, it's still really early." He said, watching as Parker dozed slightly. "Bones and I won't be far." After a moment, Parker's eyes flickered closed, and Booth shook his head and looked back to Brennan, who was standing in the kitchen. Her hand was against the counter as she leaned heavily against it, and her eyes were focused solely on him. He limped toward her carefully, stopping several feet from her, they stood face to face.

"What happened?" She whispered.

"This doesn't matter." He said, pulling at the bottom of his sweatshirt, he pulled it from his shoulders, and the sling came into full view, she instinctively took a step forward to assess his situation, the pain shooting up her leg the moment she put pressure on her broken foot. She grunted as her teeth clenched, grasping at the counter for balance and control. Her breathing was erratic, her eyebrows knitted in concern, and he limped to her side quickly. "Hey… hey, easy, Bones…" He whispered. Taking her arm with his good arm, he led her to the table, where he pulled a chair out and had her sit. "Do you need something?" He asked. "Pain killers? Tylenol?"

"No." She shook her head, trying to control the pain with short breaths in through her nose, out through her mouth. Her teeth were still clenched. "I am fine." She said after a moment.

He took this time to really look at her, take in the sight of her, and catalogue her every movement as he typically did when he was with her. Contrary to her pain, and her still present respiratory ailments, she appeared healthier. Her cheeks held a color that he hadn't seen in weeks, and her eyes were no longer filled with pain and confusion, but clearer and bluer than the last time he had seen them. Her lips were no longer dried and cracking, but healing nicely with the time she had been given away from the hospital and their invasive procedures. She appeared much more rested than previously, the hollows of her eyes were filled in, though she always looked a little paler when she didn't wear makeup, though he could see that she still looked exhausted. His inventory was cursory and quick, yet she still caught him in the middle of it, and he flicked his eyes from hers, instead focusing on the box on the counter.

"You kept Parker's gift out." Booth said, carefully standing, he moved awkwardly toward the box. He looked up at her when he reached it, and noticed the pleading look in her eyes. He didn't touch it, seemingly to her relief, and she simply nodded.

"It feels nice to have something of home close by." She said simply, watching the swell of pride in Booth's chest, she paused. "You can bring it over if you like." He shook his head, knowing that the object was precious to her. He felt that regardless of her permission, he didn't have the right to touch that box, not with the way things were between them right now. "Booth, are you okay?" She asked, watching his hand linger on the counter for a moment, his eyes still focused on the box.

"No." He replied, breathing deeply, a sigh escaped his lips. "No, I'm not okay." He said as he looked over at her. His focus was unbroken and strong, his jaw clicked, his eyes narrowed. Her breath caught in her throat, his eyes were so intense on her, that she felt smaller and smaller with each passing second. His eyes glanced to the door, where Parker had placed the backpack and blankets, and then back to his partner. He limped toward the door. "I thought that I could do this." He said, biting back the pain he felt with each step. "I can't do this." He whispered.

"Do what?" Brennan asked. Her voice was a bit wavy, her vocal cords still healing from the irritation from the hospital, it still wasn't back to normal just yet. She kept her eyes focused on him, but he kept his back to her as she watched him continue to walk away. "Booth?" Her voice begged.

He picked the bag up and turned, his eyes were now filled with emotion that wasn't there just a moment before, and she had to hold back the look of astonishment she could feel appearing on her face. "You can't do what, Booth?"

Without a word, he walked toward her, putting his weight on his foot as if he thought that the pain would remind him, as if it would give him the courage to do what he knew he had to do. "I read your letter." He said, clearing his throat. He watched her head tip, and her eyes focus on his face. She had such a stoic expression of honesty; he knew immediately that she was listening.

She always listened.

"I read your letter." He said the words again, this time slowly, clearly, and sucked in a sharp breath through clenched teeth. He pulled the folded envelope from his back pocket and slapped it down on the table, the name on the front barely legible, but she recognized. "I read it, again, and again, and again…" He paused. His stomach was clenching with each word he spoke, and he could feel the emotion rising up to his chest as he sat down in the chair across from her.

"Booth." She spoke his name, but was silenced when his eyes met hers again, a near mad, passionate stare was returned, and she said nothing.

"I read your letter again and again, but I read this one only once." He said, pulling the crumpled paper from his pocket, he dropped it in front of her, and she glanced at him. He nodded toward the paper, and she lifted it, smoothing it with her hand as she furrowed her brow. She read the note quickly, and looked up into his eyes.

"Booth, I'm…"

"Don't apologize." He snapped, glancing to the couch, he ensured that his son was sleeping, and looked back to her. "Don't apologize. I don't want an apology." He whispered. "I want you to tell me why."

"Why?"

"Why, Bones? Why did I read that note once… the note from my girlfriend, whom I have spent the past several months of my life, loving and caring for… why did I only read that one once, and yet I can't keep myself from reading this letter from you again and again?" He paused. "Why am I more broken by the thought of my partner getting over me, than my girlfriend telling me she's leaving me?" he whispered angrily. "Why, is that, Bones?"

"I don't know." She whimpered.

"Why am I here?" He demanded.

"I don't know."

"Do you want me to tell you why I'm here?" He asked. Her eyes answered his question, and she watched with uncertainty and a bit of fear. "I'm here because you are wrong. You are wrong, Bones."

Her eyes flicked to the couch and back to him, and she swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. "Why don't we talk in the screened porch." She whispered. "We can close the door. You're very upset, and I don't want to upset Parker."

"Parker knows I'm upset." Booth replied.

"I understand." She said, trying to work her mind around everything that was happening, she needed an excuse to move around, a way to get a moment to think. "I'll make us some coffee." She said, pulling herself to a standing position, she reached for her crutch and moved toward the coffee pot. Her hands trembled as she pulled the filter from the coffee pot, and in a moment, she felt his arm stretch around her and touch her hand, steadying it.

"I don't want coffee."

Her hand stayed still, watching his sit atop hers, the words from Hannah's note resonating in her mind, ringing like a million bells through her mind. Her head throbbed with pain, her mouth was dry, and she could feel the pain in her foot from the weight she had put on it. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." He replied. "Stop walking away from me."

She turned then, her body facing him now, though they were mere inches apart. Her eyes narrowed at his. "Walking away from you? I'm not walking away from you."

"You are." He replied. "You are, and you have. That's why you're here."

"I told you why I'm here." She replied. "I told you." She said, pulling the crutch, she tried to move past him, desperately trying to push away the air that he carried with him, but knew that without it, she wouldn't be able to breathe. "I didn't run away."

"No." Booth said, watching her move from him toward the screened porch. "You're walking away from me, and that's worse." He said. "At least running away, I knew there was a chance you'd come to your senses. At least when you were running away, I knew that you were just afraid. You walked away from me. You gave up. You gave up on us, you gave up on me. You quit."

She turned and glared. "I did not quit!" She exclaimed, wishing after that she had caught herself from shouting, her eyes moved toward the couch and back to Booth, before she turned toward the porch again.

He followed after her, slowly ensuring that he put as little pressure on his own ankle as much as he could. He pulled the folded letter from the table and put it in his pocket, and grabbed the backpack, and made his way to the screened porch. After stepping over the threshold, he carefully closed the door behind him, watching her rest her head in her hands as she sat at the small picnic table. "Don't look so sad." He snapped, though his words were tender words, his tone was anything but. She looked up at him, the echoed words that she spoke on the day she had crushed his hopes were shouting in her mind again and again.

"I did not quit." She replied, her voice low and filled with anger. "I did not quit."

"Just because you say it again and again, doesn't make it true." He replied, his words dripping with venom, though the hurt could be seen plainly through his words and tone.

"Is that why you came here? So that you could ridicule me? Did you come here to blame me? Hurt me?"

"No." He replied back. He pulled the letter from his pocket again. "I came here to get some answers." He said, reaching into the bag, he pulled out the gift that she had gotten him. Just seeing it made his stomach twist. "You're a hypocrite." He said plainly.

Her jaw dropped. "I am not." She whispered, though her voice begged him to continue, she wasn't afraid of his words, and she never feared his implications.

"Why am I here?"

"I don't know."

"You know." He said, waiting for her to argue, he saw that she was instead going to wait him out. She was up for the challenge. He waited for a moment and set the gift on the table. "You wrote this letter. You told me your feelings, and you give me a box of bones?" He asked, watching her brow furrow, it was just a split second, but he saw it, and the look of realization came across her face.

"Dominoes." She replied.

"Don't bullshit me here, Bones." He shook his head. "You're not an idiot. Stop pretending to be one. You know exactly what you did here." He said, placing his palm down on the old box. "Tell me what you did." He snapped. "Tell me what it means."

"I bought you a gift that I thought you would appreciate, something I thought you would treasure."

"A box of bones."

"Stop calling them that." She whispered. "Dominoes."

"You know what these are." He said, opening the wooden box, he pulled one of the small rectangular chips from within it. "You know what this is."

"It's a domino." She whispered.

"Liar." He said, his eyes looking deeply into hers, he could see directly through her façade. He could see the walls, the broken hearted pain that was bubbling just below the surface. "What is this made of?"

There was a long pause, and she waited for him to answer his own question, but watched as he held fast. "You know." She replied.

"Then tell me why… in one breath, you're giving me essentially, a piece of you, and in the next, you're releasing my heart to another woman?"

"I don't know." Was her reply. It wasn't a denial, it wasn't filled with pain. It was simple and honest, but he knew better.

"You know." He replied. "Now you know."

"No." She said, knowing that she needed to hear it from him for it to be real. If he truly understood her intention, then he would have to be the one to reveal to her, its intricate threads of power that she had weaved. "I always knew."

"But you're afraid."

"Yes."

"Because you are afraid of love?"

"Yes." She paused, her fingers reaching out to touch the dominoes in the box, her finger sliding over the piece she lifted, her fingertips sliding over it. "I fear love more than I fear death." She said, looking up at him. "I have accepted death… when a person dies, they end. There is nothing but peace in death. When you're gone, you're gone. Love holds so many possibilities for pain. When one falls in love, the pain doesn't stop… It's always possible, and in many cases probable."

"So you don't fear death?"

"No." She replied honestly, looking up at him.

"Then why, when given the opportunity to die on Christmas day. Why did you choose to live?" he asked, letting her eyes burn into his as her jaw dropped slightly. He watched her take in a sharp breath, and let her tongue sit on her teeth for a moment, with a response that she had ready disappeared. "If you fear love so much, why did you choose it over death?"

Her eyes were directly on his, her lips were trembling with an answer that she couldn't seem to utter. She could see the patience in his eyes, the patience that he always showed with her, at least the patience had shown before Hannah had come into his life. It was as if he had once again become the man that she had fallen in love with. He was waiting, and with the gaze he held on her, he'd wait forever. "I…" She stammered.

"You love me." He stated, pulling the letter from its envelope, he pointed to her words without even glancing to the letter. "You said right here, that you love me."

"Yes." She whispered.

"So you chose love over death."

"No!" She exclaimed, grabbing the letter, she read through her words, immersing herself in the scrawl of her own handwriting, she scrutinized it as if it had betrayed her. "I said that our love is born out of necessity." She said, pointing to the passage that she had stated that exact thing.

"And you're wrong." He stated, watching her trembling lips, he put his hand on hers. "Why did I come here?" He asked again.

"I… I don't know." She said, her eyes traveling back and forth to each of his as if she searched for the answer to his question. "I don't know, Booth."

"Take a guess."

"I don't know what you want me to say."

"What was the first thing you thought when you saw me on the sand this morning, Bones. What was the first thing that you thought when you looked out the window and saw us sitting there waiting for you?" He asked, narrowing his eyes in anticipation of her answer. "Did you think I was here to see if you were in danger?" He asked.

She shook her head. "No."

"I came here, because you used my words against me." He said, pointing to the letter. "You took things that you claim that I taught you, and you used them against me in order to prove my love for Hannah. But you didn't look at all of the evidence, Bones. You just looked at what you chose to see." He said with a disapproving shake of his head.

"I don't know what that means." She said, feeling the tears in her eyes, her lips were trembling as she tried to find her breath for a moment.

"You took everything that you learned about love and you simply applied it to me and Hannah, while you failed to see that you and I have all of those things, and more." He said, taking her hand in his, he leaned forward to her. "Our relationship is built on trust, not on need. I didn't come here because I felt you were in danger, I didn't come here because I'm alone. I came here because I got the signal, Bones. I got the signal."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Booth." She said in a torturously sad tone, her hand slipping from his. "I don't know what this means. I don't know what any of this means." She said, gripping the domino in her hand tightly.

"It means we made mistakes. Both of us have made mistakes, Bones. You are so sure of yourself all of the time, that on that day when I asked you to give us a try, I pushed too hard. I scared you."

"I'm not scared."

"Not now, no. You were, and you can't deny that. My mistake was not pointing out how much you've grown. Maybe I didn't see it then, maybe… I was so close that I didn't see it happen, I didn't realize the change. That was my mistake. When you hurt me, I was selfish and thought only of myself. I realize now that I am just afraid of being alone, as you are of being with someone."

Her mouth hung open for a moment, just slightly, and her lips still trembled as her eyes searched his. "We cancel one another out." She whispered, her attention brought to the door opening into the screened porch, and Parker stepped in, rubbing his eyes.

"There you guys are." He said, stopping as he yawned, his eyes went between Brennan and his father he could see they were surprised to see him standing there. Brennan had tears in her eyes, and despite his father's hand covering hers, she looked so alone and desolate. "Are you okay, Bones?" He asked, stepping onto the porch, his father's eyes caught his for just a split second, before he moved toward her. Her hand released his father's and she accepted the boy's arms as he wrapped them around her.

Booth watched his son and his partner, and watched the way her eyes closed when she hugged him, the way she clung to the boy the same way he was clinging to her. "I'm okay, Parker." She whispered, catching her breath as she pulled from the hug, she wiped a stray tear. "I'm… very happy that you came for a visit." She said, smiling into his face, she watched his eyes darken slightly when he looked to his father.

"I'm done napping." He said, glancing out to the ocean. "Can we go looking for seashells now?"

Booth could see the worry in his son's face, and knew that he was simply trying to find a distraction for the two adults now. Parker turned his eyes on his father, and they flashed to the table. "Dominoes." He said, moving between the two adults, he knelt on the bench of the picnic table. "Dad says that Pops calls them bones." Parker said absently, his fingers moving over the pieces, he pulled several from the box. "Isn't that cool, Bones?" He asked, looking to her, he could see that her tears had subsided, and she tipped her head toward him.

"You know how to play, I'm sure." She said, catching his eyes, she smiled softly at him. He nodded and set some of the dominoes on the table.

"These are different from the ones that Pops has." He said, observing the small rectangles in his hands, he turned toward her, and then looked toward his father. "Aren't they, dad?"

"The ones that Pops has are made of plastic, typical toy store dominoes." Booth explained. "These are special."

"Why? They look old."

"They're made out of real cow bones." Booth explained. He watched Parker's eyebrows lift curiously.

"Really?" He asked, looking to Brennan, she nodded. "That is so cool. Where did you get them?" He asked. Booth nodded toward Brennan, and Parker smiled. "That's funny. Bones got you bones."

"That's irony." Brennan replied.

Reaching around his son, he took her hand in his. "That's fate, Bones." He whispered.


	22. Fate To Fate

**One year later.**

The sound of the ocean crashing against the beach roused her from her slumber, and her eyes focused on the ceiling for several moments, what she could see of it of course in the darkness of the early morning. Brennan closed her eyes, trying to block out the constant churning of her mind, finding that with her eyes closed, her imagination only worked its evil magic and forced her to face the thoughts with vivid pictures of what wasn't there beside her. Her hand went instinctively to the other side of the bed, feeling the cold emptiness of the sheets beside her, and she rolled to her side to stare at the empty place in the bed beside her. She smiled sadly at the thought that she had saved a place for someone who was not there, and when she touched the sheets and closed her eyes, she could almost feel his closeness.

Brennan let out a laugh at herself, rolling onto her back, she shook her head and chided herself for the foolish thoughts that were rolling through her head. It was her decision to do this, it was her decision to take some time, it was her decision to have this space, and though her laughter was expelled in a near joyful tone, she knew that it was guilt that she was feeling deep in her chest, and it was her own fault that she was lying in this bed alone. It had been a year, and though physically she was in the same place she had been a year earlier, emotionally she was in a completely different place, a better place, a peaceful place.

There wasn't time to regret.

With a quick glance to the clock, she noted the time as being nearly six in the morning, and she knew that sleep was nowhere in sight at this point. Resigned to waking with the sun, she sat up and pulled the blankets from her legs, letting them hang over the edge as her feet touched the cold floor.

She went about her morning routine peacefully, knowing that if she hurried, she'd be able to beat the rising sun, and after a quick shower, she was dressed and stepping down the stairs toward the kitchen to brew some tea. Her eyes passed over the dining room table, where a letter sat unopened, but worn. Across the front her name was scrawled, in a familiar handwriting. She let her fingers graze the envelope, and she felt her stomach twist with a deep anxiety that she had been trying to push away since he had given her the letter, two weeks earlier as she had gotten into her car for her trip. The letter had been folded time and again, and she knew she wanted to read it, but for some reason or another, she just couldn't bring herself to tear the corner of the envelope and slip that mysterious paper from within it. Since that day, the letter had been with her wherever she had gone, and now it was staring back at her, beckoning her, begging her to take a peek at its contents. She rested her palm on the envelope, sucking in a deep breath as she turned from it and walked toward the stove.

Her hair was still wet, but she was warm in her sweatpants and sweatshirt, and her eyes passed the large picture window over the sink to see the deep blue sky as it began to lighten. She arranged her teacup and put the water in the tea kettle to boil, and found her eyes focusing on the beach for a moment. She looked to see if there was a figure on the sand, and laughed at her foolishness in expecting something as unplanned as a visit from him, though she would readily welcome him with open arms. She felt a deep sense of disappointment at the absence of his figure, and again reminded herself that it was simply her own fault that he wasn't there with her.

She turned to lean against the counter, waiting for the kettle to whistle, her eyes fell upon the wooden box that she had placed there the moment she had arrived. She stepped forward to the box, her fingernail sliding under the latch; she opened it and immediately smiled at the contents that were looking up at her. Her hand dipped inside, pulling from the box a small blue seashell that Parker had given her a year earlier. At his insistence, the three of them had gone back to the sand that day, and the two adults sat together, hand in hand watching as Parker ran over the sand around them collecting seashells. In a moment of quiet between her and the boy, though, he had handed her the small shell and watched her eyes light up at the gift, and he smiled as he told her that it almost matched her eyes.

She sighed tenderly as she placed the shell back in the box, her head turning to see if the kettle was ready, only to find that the water wasn't quite boiling. She turned toward the box and reached inside, pulling out a small photograph. On the photo there were three smiling faces, all turned and looking at something else to their right, a photo booth picture where they had all squeezed inside, but just as the photo had been taken, they heard a noise outside and looked. She had a choice of the three photo booth pictures at the time, and remembered choosing this one. Booth had asked her why she'd choose the one that didn't show their attention, the one with just half of their faces visible in the photo, and she laughed, explaining that the genuine look of surprise on their faces amused her, their curiosity made her happy. She smiled at the photo, not sad or wistful, just simply smiled, as her attention was pulled away to the tea kettle.

She placed the photo back and lovingly closed the box before she moved to the kettle and quickly poured the hot water into her mug, and again found her eyes grazing toward the window. The sky was just a little more blue, that intense blue that compared to her passionate gaze. She let the tea steep, as her eyes fell from the window and back to the letter on the table. Reluctantly she walked toward the table, and pulled the chair out to sit. She set the mug down beside the letter, and sat down, as she reached out with both hands and pulled the letter to her. Her fingers slid down the rough paper, dipping into the folded line that was now in the paper, an indication of its journey. Deeply she breathed, wishing that he was there with her, instead of inside the flattened folds of papers in her hands, she made a final decision. If he couldn't be there with her in person, at least he could be there with his words. She just wished that she knew what to expect behind the boundary of the envelope.

Slowly and methodically, Brennan began to tear at the envelope's crease along the top, ensuring that she wouldn't damage the paper inside, she allowed herself to imagine the care and thought he had put into preparing the letter, and her stomach was starting to twist with anxiety, the not knowing not fully hitting her until this very moment that she held the power of the letter in her hands. With a slow, intentional movement, she removed the letter from the envelope, and slowly unfolded the pages onto the table. Her hand flattened the paper, and his familiar handwriting was luring her in, as certain words grabbed her attention. She smiled.

Her eyes first admired the letter, the way he had taken care to print in careful letters so that she could read his writing legibly, though she knew that whether it was in block lettering or Sanskrit, she'd be able to read his letter. She thought for a moment of that final kiss at the car, the way he slipped the letter lovingly into her hand and she remembered the proud look in his eyes, when she gave him a surprised expression. With a deep breath through her teeth, she looked down at the letter and began to read, each word sliding effortlessly into the next as she imagined his voice in her ear, whispering his sentiment.

* * *

_Bones, _

_I'm not nearly as good with the written word as you are, so if the thoughts in this letter seem to be rambling, just remember whose mind they're coming from. First, I want you to know that I understand why you wanted to take some time to rest and reflect away from home, and I respect your decision to take this time for yourself. In the past year, there have been a lot of changes, and you've earned the right to take advantage of some time off._

_I want to make sure that you understand that I don't see your time away as running, or walking away, but just a break for some time and space. Please don't feel guilty for taking time for yourself, regardless of what I may have said before you left, I can survive without you at my side for a couple of weeks, maybe, hopefully._

_I'd like to start by saying the obvious, and feel free to stop reading at any point. I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable, and I don't want to push you too hard. Just take your time, and read at your own pace. The most important thing that I'd like to point out, Bones, is that I love you. I know that I love you, and have loved you for a very long time, and I am well aware of the love you have for me. I know this is true for many reasons, the most obvious being the leap of faith that we took together just about a year ago. We took the love that we felt as a family, the love that we had as friends, and developed it into something that only time and patience could achieve. We took the trust that we held for one another, the knowledge of our shortcomings and strengths, and we forced down the barriers that we had once built up to keep other out. I appreciate your love, and accept your love for what it is, what it always was, and what it always will be in my heart. I am grateful for your love, and I don't believe that we would have made it even this far if we didn't believe in one another so absolutely._

* * *

She took a break from reading, a tear sliding from her cheek onto the page made her jump slightly, and she sniffled. A smile was forming on her lips, his words touching her heart so deeply, that she couldn't help but feel excitement deep in her belly at his words. She wanted to read more, and felt that she needed it, and with her fingers holding the page down, she looked up and saw that the sky was even lighter than moments before. She glanced at her tea, noting that the steam was rising from the hot cup, but knew that it could wait, for the sunrise wouldn't. She quickly folded the paper, letting the envelope sit discarded on the table, as she quickly stood, and hurried toward the door.

Barefoot, and running, she listened to the gentle thump of her feet on the wooden boards of the deck, and hurried toward the cool sand. She could feel the cold, January wind in her still damp hair, but paid no heed to that, her eyes focused on the horizon, as she watched the light blue radiating from the ocean's lip. She settled in the sand, soft to the touch, and fine as anything, her mind still reeling from the words she had already taken in from the letter, she raised the paper to her view, and with the low, humble glow of the lightening sky, she began to devour his words once again.

* * *

_I want to make it clear to you that I understand your need for time and space. I understand that you're not running away. Everyone needs time to think, and you know that I believe that time with your family is very important. I am just peaceful knowing that this time when you're out of reach of my touch, you're not sick or injured. You're not in pain physically, or emotionally, and though I'm fairly sure that you miss work more than you miss me, our bond will continue to strengthen. I too will take this time to spend with Parker, and spend some time alone, and reflect on the changes that have happened in recent months. Just know that I do miss you immensely. You have always a very important member of my family, even when I lost sight of that, and you will forever be an integral part of who I am, and what I become in the future. Simply put, I love you, Bones._

_You're correct when you tell me that the many years that we've spent together have taught us lessons of life that go with any relationship. Our experiences together, both in our work and away from it are both unique and filled with a great dramatic flair. We've challenged one another every step of the way, ensuring that we remain fair and balanced in every aspect of our lives. We share similar feelings on family because we know their importance, friends because we recognize their needs, and our futures both as a couple and as partners. And though most of our days are immersed in a world of death, murder, and danger, we always find the time to come back to our lives, and one another. You challenge me in ways that no one has ever challenged me. You make me think, feel, taste, touch, smell, and hear all that is around me. I may tease you, and say that you have a 'mania' for the truth, but it keeps me honest, it keeps me balanced, it keeps me on track. I thank you for being my balance, my energy, my muse. I am not simply content with you, I am energized by you. Simply put, I love you, Bones._

* * *

She paused for a moment, the colors beginning to appear in the sky, and she folded the letter over her finger, focusing on the sky. She turned her head toward the house, and let her eyes scale the emptiness of the beach as she felt a sense of loneliness wash over her. Her hand moved, and she felt the paper, quickly dispelling the loneliness into the wind as she felt a wave of warmth through her body.

She was loved.

She could love.

She was in love.

She sighed with a sense of resignation, and her eyes followed the small wisps of clouds that were already sprinkled in the sky. The light from the sun just below the horizon was sending beams of light to warm the underside of the clouds, forcing them to glow in the early morning light. Slowly in the midst of the blue, the oranges and reds began to appear in the sky, and peacefully, quietly, and to the gentle melody of the ocean, the light show began.

Without warning, nor alarm, she suddenly felt the soft warmth of a blanket draped over her shoulders, and two hands softly gripping her shoulders. His scent washed over her and she smiled, hiding it in the blanket as she felt his warm breath in her ear as he crouched beside her.

"Are you trying to catch pneumonia again?" He whispered, his voice was low and tender, and with no answer, he kissed her temple.

She turned her head to face him, and when their eyes met, he could see the unshed tears hiding in their depths. "What are you doing here?" She whispered. Her tone was one of relief, and his eyes were filled with mischief.

"Saving you." Booth paused, a knowing smile on his lips. "Again."

She smiled back at him, hiding it in the blanket again, her eyes smiled back at him.

"Is there room enough for two?" He whispered, and her nodding head made him smile. He sat beside her in the sand, his arm moving around her as he pulled her closer. "It's cold out here." He shivered.

"It's not cold." She replied, pushing herself into his chest, he kissed her head. "I missed you." She said, surprising herself with her words, she just spoke what she was feeling, and felt no guilt about it. He felt his arms hold her a bit tighter, a tremble of cold shivering his body. "Here, have some of the blanket." She said, looking to her side, she pulled from him slightly and offered a corner of the blanket. He pulled it around him and pulled her into his lap, dropping a kiss on her neck.

"I missed you." He said into her skin, looking down at the letter in her hand, he plucked it from her fingers, hearing her gasp as she moved around, trying to pull it from his fingers.

"That's mine." She said, reaching for it as he held it from her reach.

"You are just reading it?" He asked her, letting her pull it from his fingertips, he accepted her scowl and kissed her nose. "It took me a week to write that, and more than two weeks for you to read it. And here I thought you were a genius."

"I am a genius." She said, settling in his lap, she looked up, and they watched the sun start to peek over the horizon, she felt his lips on the nape of her neck.

"Beautiful."

"It is." She whispered.

"I mean you."

"I know what you were talking about." She said, feeling his lips on her neck again, she attempted to pull from him; she let a gentle laugh escape her lips, and settled back in his arms.

He watched her fingers rub gently over the paper for a moment, her focus was off. "Did you want me to leave you with your letter?" He whispered, and immediately, he felt her hand grip his arm. He knew she didn't want to ask, so he kissed her neck again. "I don't have to, it's okay." He replied. "Read. I'm here."

She turned and looked into his eyes; his brown depths were filled with certainty and love, and an intensity she had never seen before. She pushed back into his arms, and lifted the page into her sights, and with his arms around her, his body surrounding her, she could feel the words lifting from the page, and hear the warmth of his voice, see the dark recesses of his eyes. She took a deep, soothing breath of his essence, and continued reading.

* * *

_ You claim that I have challenged you as well, taught you about truth versus respect, while that may be true, I think the same goes for you. You take the things that I know and believe, and you have a way of twisting them into some of the most logical puzzles that I have ever been faced with. You make me think in ways I never thought before, and though most of the time, our conversations can turn volatile quite quickly, I accept your opinion. I respect your opinion, and I understand that your intention is not to hurt me with your own beliefs. You have grown to respect my beliefs, and for that I simply love you more. You and I share many secrets, and we have been sharing these secrets with one another for such a long time, and I treasure our secrets. I treasure our conversations, our bickering, our laughter, and our arguments. I treasure each and every word you utter, even those words that I don't understand the meaning of. It is the fact that you know so much, and share so much with me that keeps me coming back for more. You have made me hunger for knowledge, awoken a curiosity inside of me that I didn't know existed, and I thank you. You credit me with teaching you who you are, and I think that you've always been that person, and you've always known, but you were just afraid to show it. We have stated in the past, that what is between us is ours, and when I said that to you, I knew that you took it to heart. I knew that you trusted my words enough to be true. I love you, Bones. I will always love you, and I will do anything I can from now until the day that we are no longer on this earth together to show you that._

* * *

She stopped reading for a moment, her eyes focusing on the words as she felt him gently rocking on the sand, his eyes focused on the rising sun. When he realized she wasn't reading, he stopped rocking, and waited for her to say something. She spoke no words, just let him hold her, and he was fine and content with that. The drive had been long, but he knew it was worth it, for she was the goal he was striving to reach. He held her tightly, her focus on him, and his eyes focused on the sunrise for several moments.

She turned her head and leaned toward him, dropping a whisper of a kiss on his chin, she watched the curve of his lip, and smiled at him, watching his eyes flicker to her. His lips curved up into a smile, and their eyes locked for several moments. "I looked for you this morning."

"On the beach?"

"Yes."

"Were you disappointed that I wasn't here?"

"Yes."

"I'm here now."

"I know." She whispered. "Thank you for being here."

"Always."

* * *

_I am proud of you Bones, for giving us a chance despite how afraid you are of all of this. I feel more confident in our relationship now, than I have ever felt. I feel more confident in our relationship than I have ever felt in any relationship, ever. We've shared so much, and have taught one another so many lessons in love and everything that goes with it. What we have become has grown out of the need to be there for one another, to care for one another, to just simply be with one another. What we have together can be seen in everything we do, both together and separately. When I look into your eyes, I recognize that gaze that I once foolishly overlooked. When I hear your voice, I hear the subtle nuances that I never listened for in the past. When I tell you I love you, I no longer see the fear in your eyes that it is just a passing moment, but see that sentiment reflecting back to me, intensely. I am a lucky man, Bones, to have found someone that I can share everything with. We took your fear of love, and my fear of loneliness, and we combined them into something that we can both be confident in. We stopped fighting about the inequalities of one another, and became partners in something even bigger than we could have imagined. Apart, we are weighted by our fears, together we create a balance. Apart we create a wall that is impenetrable and impassable. Together, we can share our thoughts, and make decisions together on what we will allow through, and what we will allow to affect us. I no longer fear loneliness, and I pray that you no longer fear love, for our needs have been met, and that bond could never be broken. Simply put, I love you._

_I am comforted beyond words when you vocalize your love for me, and I am proud of you for allowing yourself to step past the fear that you once felt. I hope that you understand through my actions of coming to you time and again despite the pain that we have caused one another, you have always been my constant. You have always been the one logical mind that I could depend on in times of uncertainty. You're the only person who has proved that you are willing to risk life and limb to protect my heart, protect my body, and protect my soul. I know the things that you've done for me, Bones. I may not know details, and I may be hidden from your protection sometimes, but I know that it exists. The quickening of my heartbeat when you're near may be a chemical reaction, and over time, we may not even notice it anymore, but that doesn't mean that my love has stopped. Does a song stop simply because you turned down the volume? Does a life end simply because you can't physically see a person? Does my heart stop beating, simply because you pulled your ear from my chest? _

_You and I have become closer than ever in recent years, Bones. I find times where I don't even have to say what I'm thinking, for you to just simply know. I find that sometimes, words just aren't enough, and a simple glance, an eye roll, a smile, that is simply enough._

* * *

Her focus was once again on the rising sun, her eyes watching the bright orb born from the sea, rising into the sky silently and with ease. Her hands trembled on paper, the soft wind rattling over the page, she felt his hands on hers as he held it steady.

She had tears rolling down her cheeks, his words melting into her soul as he memorized each and every one of them, and cried silently for just the time they had lost to just get to this point. It had been a long year of getting to know him on a level that she had only seen from afar. A long, prosperous year filled with days of work and danger, and nights filled with the passionate song of their laughter, love making, and their simple silence. She had asked for this time apart, she had asked for the space to think and feel, and work alone in her personal space. This letter had been with her for two weeks, against her in her pocket, and never far from her grasp. His heart had been written on the page, as she had done with her own letter, and he was giving every strand of his heart to her right then and there.

She was trying to focus on the last part of the letter, but her eyes were filled with tears. The words blurred together, and she sniffled in sadness as she tried to find the strength to continue. She was about to fold the paper and give up until she calmed, until she heard his gentle voice behind her, rumbling the words of the letter to her, in a soft, loving tone.

* * *

_I am aware of the distance we have closed between us, the gaps we have filled, and the dreams we have fulfilled. I'm not regretful of our past, I am glad that we experienced it. I am not yearning for the time that we lost, and I am not expecting anything from you that you will not be able to fulfill. I know your stance on marriage; I know your stance on religion. I know your stance on life here and in the hereafter. You expect nothing from me but for me to be myself. We are partners in the strongest sense of the world, and I will always have your back. You're by far one of the most important people in my life, and that will never change._

_Thank you for forgiving me for my faults and my mistakes. Thank you for having my back, for your protection, your love, your admiration, and your knowledge. Thank you for giving me the family that I always wanted and felt that I needed. Thank you for being my friend. Thank you for taking the time to read my words, and know that I will love you until the day that you breathe your last breath, and after that, I will love your memory, our memories, and always look forward to the next time I see you, the next time I touch you, and tell you that I love you. This is our decision. This is our fate. This is us._

_Never Fear,_

_Booth. _

* * *

When the last word was uttered, his name echoed on his lips in a whisper filled with unspoken sentiments, he found her eyes were burning into her memory that final sentence of the letter.

His eyes remained hers as they sat in virtual silence, the sound of the ocean waves filling their senses, the wind blowing delicately over them on the deserted ocean sand.

The letter was slowly folded, his fingers dipping into the creases as he felt her hand on his.

"Now do you believe in fate?" He asked, the low rumble of his voice made her tremble deep inside, butterflies flitted in her stomach, and a smile began to slip delicately onto her lips, her eyes taking on a glint of mischief.

"I believe in you." She paused. "I believe in me, and I believe in the universe. I believe in what I can see, what I can touch, what I can taste, what I can hear, smell and feel. I believe in us. I don't need fate." She said as she slipped the paper from his fingertips, and pressed it to her chest. "I just need you." She said, leaning back against him, they watched the ocean waves together as the sun climbed higher in the sky.

"I believe in it too." He whispered, kissing her temple tenderly, letting the ocean waves wash away their worries and fears, as a new day began.

* * *

**The end.**

To my readers and commenters. Thank you. I hope you enjoyed the journey. Thanks to all of my twitter pals, and especially Doc (doctorsuez), Gum (Thnx4thegum) ... I couldn't write half as well if i didn't have you guys cheering me along. :)


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